Bright Star
by Carrie Swinton
Summary: When Hermione Granger and Lacie Malfoy are Sorted into Gryffindor, two worlds collide between the Muggleborn genius and the Pureblood Princess. Draco Malfoy has always been close to his sister, but what will the devastating loss of his twin do? AU of PS.
1. A Reason To Worry

_Disclaimer to JK Rowling. _

_I hope you enjoy this story (:_

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

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><p>"<em><strong>Until tonight they were separate specialties,<br>different stories, the best of their own worst."**_

**Anne Sexton from **_**A Story to Rose on the Midnight Flight to Boston**_

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><p>Hermione straightened herself up as she tried not to bristle from the sheer humiliation that she had managed to put herself through. She glared at the now-closed carriage behind her. <em>Well, really! <em>Hermione thought to herself, _there is no need to be so rude!_

She had introduced herself to Harry Potter – someone she had been itching to see since she had read about him – and shown him some proper magic – not a made-up spell that would turn a rat yellow, Hermione noted, since it was OWL level Transfiguration _at the very least_ – and then she found herself interrupted by the idiotic redhead (whose name she hadn't managed to get) that had mumbled his way through said colour-changing spell. He irritated her, his mocking taunts on the way she spoke was more than enough for Hermione to take a hint. Life experiences had told her so much and Hermione Jean Granger would not allow herself to succumb to such low tactics to stay in favour with such a moron. She managed to retaliate by making a comment about the cleanliness of his nose and then she flounced off without further ado. She had things to do and toads to find, she really couldn't be listening to a redhead mutter anything else about her.

Hermione gathered as much confidence as she could before rapping against the door of the closed carriage. For a while, she thought that it was empty, as no one would open the door. Then she realised that it couldn't be empty as she distinctly remembered someone saying that all the carriages were full and so she waited for a response. Her patience was rewarded when a thickset boy opened it. Her confidence almost refused to stay with her as she thought that the boy was in a year that was above hers. She managed to calm down when she saw that his tie was plain black, like her own, and he too was a new student at Hogwarts.

"What is it?" he asked in a low growl that intimidated Hermione slightly. _No_, she thought to herself, _I will be confident. I promised Neville to help find his toad!_

"Have you seen a toad? A boy called Neville has lost his."

Her voice had a hint of a tremor that Hermione could have gone without but she patted herself mentally on the back. She hadn't cowered. Yet.

"Neville, as in Neville Longbottom?" a soft voice inside the carriage called out.

Hermione took this opportunity to step around the thickset boy and into the carriage. She assessed her surroundings. On the left of her was another boy, as burly as the one standing up, if not more, but to her right...

They had to be royalty. _They had to be! _They had a regal air around them, even though they were wearing the same black tie around their necks which showed that they were first-years as well.

Hermione stared at the girl and stopped for a moment, her heart pounding as if she had finished a race but realised with a start that she had mistaken her for a different girl.

_It's not her, she would never sit so regally, calm down._

The girl was sat gracefully, poised like she was hosting an audience. Her long, blonde hair fell down her shoulders, in such a manner that Hermione deeply envied and Hermione even tried to flatten her irrevocably bushy hair in her presence. Her face moved to face Hermione more directly, her hair swaying like liquid silk. The boy beside her was undoubtedly her twin. He was a mirror image of her but with shorter hair. He was sitting on his chair like he was a king, or something to that description. He was clearly bored. Hermione reddened. He didn't look at her, like she was too plain to look at and it would hurt his eyes if he did.

"Well?" the girl asked, "Is he?"

"Lacie, does it even matter?" the boy murmured. For her, he did turn to look at.

His sister tore her gaze from Hermione for a second and looked at her brother. She said something in too quiet a voice to the boy and he reddened slightly. He looked away from her immediately but his posture changed. He looked like a spoilt child now. The girl, or Lacie as the boy had called her, turned back to face Hermione with curiosity.

_I am confident. I have courage. I will answer. _Hermione's innate compulsion to answer the questions overwhelmed her fear to dare speak to someone she barely knew, especially someone..._like her_.

"Yes, Neville Longbottom lost his toad and I'm helping to find it," Hermione said clearly, enunciating each word.

"Why? Who is Neville to you?" she asked again, her interest piqued.

"A friend."

"Who are you?"

"Hermione Granger and you are?"

"Lacerta Malfoy," she replied meekly. "This is my brother, Draco, who you must have realised is my twin. The one standing up is Gregory Goyle and the other boy is Vincent Crabbe. We are childhood friends of sorts."

Hermione made a mental note.

"Forgive me for being so forward, but are you related in any manner to the Potioneer, Hector Dagworth-Granger?" Lacerta asked her.

"No," Hermione laughed. "My parents don't know magic."

Draco had perked up from his statue position beside his sister and he looked at her in a manner that made Hermione feel as if she was a piece of meat at the market, "You mean to say that your parents are Muggles?"

Hermione was confused by his sudden interest, "Yes."

"So you're a Mudblood, then?" Draco asked with a wide grin. Gregory and Vincent chuckled around her. Lacerta gasped and looked at her brother with a shocked expression.

"A, what?" Hermione asked, she was smiling but she didn't know why. She was genuinely confused.

"Draco," Lacerta was growling now. "Stop it."

"It's just, someone – who, someone who – comes from a Muggle background," Draco had a hard time of keeping his face straight. "Like you."

Hermione didn't know whether it was a bad thing or a good thing. Judging by the laughs of the people around her, she doubted it was something nice. _Get out now!_

"Well," Hermione said, a lump now rising in her throat. Her confidence had completely gone. She just wanted to run. "If you do see a toad, please do return it to Neville." She gushed through the last half of her sentence and made her way – or rather, rushed – out of the carriage. The guffaws of Gregory imprinted on her eardrums and she could hear them as she hurried down the train. She was going to apologise to Neville, but she really couldn't help him. Not when any dignity she had, had been brutally shredded by a group of mean wizards and a witch.

"Wait, Hermione!"

Hermione stopped and turned around and stared at the approaching figure. Even whilst she was jogging, her hair swayed side to side gently. Burying her jealousy, she looked towards the ground.

"What is it, Lacerta?"

"I want to apologise to you on behalf of my brother," Lacerta said, "He is an immature eleven year-old and does not know when to shut his mouth. His language was disgusting and I hope you don't hold it against him."

Hermione didn't look up at her. She, too, was eleven and the twin sister of the said immature eleven year-old but she had no trace of the immaturity she accused her brother of having.

"It's fine, I don't even know what a Mudblood is, and judging by your brother's description, it makes sense that he called me one. I _am _one," Hermione said, still facing the vibrating ground. She wasn't just shaking due to her anger or her mortification but because of the moving train. It was just the moving train. She was trying to tell herself that, but she believed it less every second.

A hand touched hers and Hermione looked up in shock.

"No, it's a disgusting term," said Lacerta softly. "I do hope that you don't call yourself that."

She didn't say much else as she turned away from Hermione and danced her way up the train back to her carriage. Hermione, stood, a little confused but then went back to her own carriage, feeling a lot better than she had before.

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><p>Lacerta Malfoy was ashamed. She was <em>disgusted. <em>

_We haven't been raised this way, _her furious mind kept telling her.

Sure enough, Lacerta had heard her brother, Draco, say his fair share of curse words and often trumping her in their battles to see who knew the worst one. That was a game of the past. This was the present and they were supposed to be responsible with the things that they said. Yet he had found the worst word he could and had hurt someone with it and he had the gall to act as if he was in the right.

She had definitely not been raised this way and she cringed at the idea of what Mother would say if Draco had said what he had said in front of her. She honestly didn't know where her brother managed to get his bad habits. He definitely would not have learnt them from his mother; she knew that with a certainty. Her father may have condoned his comments, but - … Lacerta struggled to even find a justifiable explanation for what her brother had done. Seeing as Narcissa was no longer there with them and Lacerta couldn't tell on him (yet!), she would have to assert Narcissa's position and give him a good talking to.

She stormed into her carriage and glared at her brother. He was patting the seat beside him, inviting her to sit beside him. She wasn't going to sit next to him. Not after his little charade with that poor Muggleborn.

"You were out of line," that was all she was going to say to him. She was furious with him.

"Lacie, it was a _joke_." That was his excuse all the time.

"I'm not laughing, Hermione wasn't laughing. The poor girl was close to tears, Draco!"

"So what? She got an apology," Draco frowned. _He is so incredibly childish! _Lacerta thought, _why do I always have to play the parent role?_

"Not from the right person. Mother didn't raise you this way. She didn't raise you to demean other people. Hermione didn't make fun of you, there was no reason for you to act in such a manner towards her," Lacerta said angrily.

"That's because she had no right to -..." Draco paused, evaluating Lacerta's increasingly irate face. "Fine, fine. I was out of line. I won't call her a Mudblood for a month. Happy?"

"I want you to never use that term again, Draco."

"You're starting to sound like a bloody Gryffindor," Draco said distastefully. "Watch out before the Hat puts you in that no-good, Mudblood-infested, blood traitor House."

He had used the term again and Lacerta wasn't going to have any of it. She growled his name in a manner that she had heard her father use on him when he was being like a brat. He recoiled slightly.

"Fine, fine. Whatever you want, Lacie," Draco said wearily. "Will you take a seat now?"

Lacerta decided to take a seat opposite Draco and Draco slumped into his seat. He threw his arms around himself and sulked.

Lacerta smiled despite herself and leaned forward.

"You really need to return Neville Longbottom's toad. It's cruel to keep the poor creature in your filthy trunk for so long," she whispered and winked.

She wasn't _that_ Gryffindor after all.

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><p>Hogwarts was a strange place, Hermione had to admit. So far, she was in the boats that needed no one to neither steer nor propel them forwards after a <em>giant <em>greeted them. _He couldn't possibly be a giant. He was far too short to be one_. Well, short in terms of giants that could be up to twenty feet. She closed her eyes to stop her mind from overflowing with statistics and figures about what she had read up on the Wizarding World. Her mind was always brimming with useless titbits of information. She just needed to keep it under control. It didn't help that she was in the same boat with the same redheaded boy that she disliked, and that Harry Potter was articulating questions that even the boy, who seemed to think that he knew everything, couldn't answer. Hermione knew the answers, of course, but she wasn't going to answer for the boy. That was the only reason why she kept her silence.

It was hard, though, to have to keep her mouth shut. She bit her lip in order to keep her mouth closed. Harry and his friend probably thought it was worry. It was, slightly, but it wasn't to the degree that they were assuming.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Neville prodded her arm. She loosened her grip on the lantern in the boat and nodded. They had reached the docks they stumbled out of the boat. Other first-years were bustling around and following Hagrid up the long path that would take them into the Castle that Hermione knew was Hogwarts.

"I think I've lost my toad," Neville said sadly. "Forever."

"I'm sure he'll turn up, I've read that toads have magical powers...maybe Trevor will somehow find his way back to you," Hermione muttered. Her pool of knowledge wouldn't cease to bubble if she didn't say something. It settled in her mind after she had said it and she smiled.

"What _are _the four Houses anyway?" Harry asked. They were walking in front of her and Harry's voice floated backwards towards them.

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin," Hermione blurted out uncontrollably. She flushed. She had been a bigmouth again. "Sorry."

"I can see that you'll be a Ravenclaw," the redhead boy snickered. Hermione's blood boiled. He really was irritating.

"I wouldn't mind that," Hermione snapped. "Ravenclaws are wise and I thank you for the compliment. Though, I do wonder where they would place _you._"

He was taken aback by her answer and the following question. He narrowed his eyes at her, "I know where I'm going to be. I'll be Sorted into Gryffindor."

It was Hermione's turn to snicker, "You sound confident of that, too confident even, I do wonder what you'll do if you get Sorted into Slytherin."

He hissed, like the symbol of the House Hermione had just been speaking about. _So, he would be perfect for Slytherin, _Hermione mused to herself.

This was contradicted by a loud laugh behind her.

"Weasley, in Slytherin? Please, Granger, please do say something else, you _do _manage to make me laugh every time I see you." Draco Malfoy had arrived. Judging by his laugh, he had most likely heard everything that they were talking about.

Weasley, who had heard Draco, stiffened and turned around to face Hermione. "I don't _want_ to be in Slytherin. My family have always been in Gryffindor. It's family tradition."

"Tradition?" Draco's voice broke in the incredulity. "I bet the Sorting Hat was bored of you Weasleys breeding like rabbits and decided that you should all go into one House so he didn't have to think about it."

"I could say the same about you, Malfoy."

"You could but you would not be able to draw parallels between us, Weasley, seeing as you're a disgusting blood -..."

Draco was stopped by his sister putting her hand on his arm and saying, "Enough."

She managed to say it with enough force to silence everyone in the vicinity. She was staring at Draco with a fierce expression, "Draco, that is enough. Weasley had enough right to say that about us since our family has always been in Slytherin. Do you really want to pick a fight before we've even entered Hogwarts?"

Draco glared at her and looked away, his cheeks reddening slightly. Lacerta seemed to take this for an answer and she turned to look at Weasley and said, "I do apologise for my brother's behaviour, Weasley, and I would appreciate it if you stopped thinking about hexing him now."

Hermione chortled in her mind. It seemed that Lacerta did have her own motives underlying her kind words. She was also observant as Weasley took his hand out of his pocket immediately, leaving his wand inside. Lacerta relaxed and smiled. She wound her arm around her brother's and walked, persistently away from them, not before flashing a smile at Hermione. Weasley shuddered in front of her.

"The Malfoys are a piece of work, the lot of them," he told an inquisitive Hermione, "They're untrustworthy little..." Ron assessed the crowd around them that had gathered as they neared a large oak door. Hermione could see that he was not going to finish his sentence.

"Lacerta is not too bad," Hermione interjected before Weasley could say anything more about the Malfoys.

"The girl?" Weasley asked Hermione, "I've never met her before and she wasn't there when Draco introduced himself to us on the train." He paused and mulled over in his mind and shook his head, clearly unsure about Lacerta. "_Nah_, she's probably got something up her sleeve. You heard her, her family are all Slytherins – Slytherins always have a plan."

Hermione remained silent as listened to Weasley's words over again in her head.

_It just didn't make sense, how could Lacerta be conniving? She hardly seems like the type._ Hermione frowned. _Then again, I shouldn't judge a book by its cover. I know that much. _

Her attention was grabbed as the jostling crowd in front of them parted because Lacerta seemed to be making her way back through the crowd of excited first-years. Hagrid had just knocked on the door and presented Professor McGonagall, a formidable looking woman who made a little speech about rules at Hogwarts. Hermione watched as Lacerta managed to edge her way backwards towards the four so she didn't interrupt the Professor's speech, when the Professor told them to smarten themselves up and swept away from the first-years, Lacerta took her chance.

She looked at Neville, directly, her pale grey eyes staring at him and making sure his absolute attention was on her. Hermione's attention was on her. She seemed to attract attention like a sore thumb and it was inevitable. Others around her were looking at her to see what she could possibly want with the round-faced boy that they were familiar with, the boy who had lost his toad.

"Is this the toad you were looking for?" she asked with a small smile. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a rather large toad that contrasted with her pale hand.

"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed, scooping his toad into his own hands. He blushed as he muttered his thanks.

"It's alright," Lacerta winked before skipping back to where her brother was stood, managing to evade Professor McGonagall as she returned and told the first-years to line up.

Lacerta walked right past the other first-years so that she could stand beside her brother. It they were attached to each other, like Siamese twins. At first, Draco struggled against Lacerta's attempts to coil her arm through Draco's again but Hermione watched as she said something – something that made Draco redden – and he relented, letting her hold him close. Hermione stared at them in awe. She had never seen sibling love in such a manner before, as she had no siblings. She had also never been in such close proximity to the exceptional bond that twins shared and it was startling. Even though Ron was adamant that they were incapable of human emotion as that was how they manage to belittle others, Hermione could only see otherwise.

Weasley had also been watching and he told Harry under his breath, "See? They always have a Plan B when Plan A fails."

Hermione scoffed under her breath. She didn't want to listen to Weasley's tirade about the Malfoys and watch Harry adopt his opinion. It was typical boy behaviour and Hermione didn't want to get wrapped up in their intense power fights.

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><p>Draco was unimpressed when he had seen the ghosts and was more unimpressed when the doors of the Great Hall opened. He was also unimpressed with how his sister was acting.<p>

She had played the hero perfectly, chasing after Mudbloods and apologising, stepping in front of a blood traitor and apologising and returning a toad to a half-witted fool, although, not apologising this time around. Draco's skin prickled when he even thought about the way that Lacie would lower herself into _apologising _to everyone around her. Malfoys didn't apologise, mostly because they were always right, but on the off chance, it was because they were too damn proud for their own good.

Now, Lacie had besmirched their proud name by apologising every time Draco made a single comment. It was tiring.

"It's just like the book said," Lacie murmured, her head was facing the ceiling and a wondrous look coloured her face. "The ceiling _is _enchanted to look like the sky outside."

"Obviously, books don't lie," Draco said stubbornly. Lacie looked down at him. Regretfully, she was slightly taller than him and she had to look down at him frequently and Draco didn't like it but she smiled, and that alone seemed to make Draco feel slightly better.

"Books _do _lie, sometimes," Lacie said with a smile. "Except, everyone says they are editorial mistakes instead."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Only you would know that." He was right. Lacie was slightly more bookish of the pair and had read almost half of the library at Malfoy Manor whereas Draco preferred flying on his broom. However, their interests continually crossed paths as Lacie was a good flyer, although not on par with Draco, and Draco did like to read his fair share of books, especially the _White Wizard _series.

Lacie held on tighter to Draco's arm and Draco looked at her inquiringly.

"You don't think that I'll be a Gryffindor, do you?" she whispered. Her tone had said it all. Draco's continual comments of her possibly being Sorted into Gryffindor house had taken hold and Draco felt a wave of guilt over himself. He ignored it for the time being.

"Serves you right, treating everyone fairly and apologising and stuff," Draco said with a smug smile. "If you wanted to be a Slytherin, you should have let me keep the damn toad."

"Language," Lacie muttered before saying, "also, it was mean to keep the toad. Longbottom looked like he would have cried enough to fill the Lake."

"So?"

"So, what if someone took Eltanin, how would you feel then?"

Eltanin was Draco's personal rook that Draco adored beyond any common owl. Where Lacie had been happy with Adelais, her common Scop owl, Draco had demanded to have a rook carry his post for him despite rooks being incredibly unlucky. He could remember the arguments that he had had with his Father over buying the bird but after throwing several tantrums and an incident with Accidental Magic, Draco won. Eltanin was the only thing that he loved above his father and his mother, and that wasn't going to change, not even if Eltanin foretold Draco of his impending death or the deaths of his friends.

He imagined someone, Neville was the first figure to form in his mind, taking his rook and holding it hostage. His heart began to palpitate at the thought of someone taking Eltanin away from him. He shuddered and he glared at his sister. _She made me think of it and now I feel like my chest is going to rip open._

"I see your point," Draco muttered.

"Good."

"I do hope you're in Slytherin," Draco said, not looking at Lacie due to his embarrassment. "I do hope that I'm in Slytherin too. Father would be so proud of us."

"Don't worry, Draco," Lacie smiled as she stared at the Hat, ignoring its jovial song about the different qualities of each House – she knew them anyway, and she only wanted to be in one House – and she turned to him. "We'll be together, just you and me, like we always have."

Draco smiled in comfort. Not because the Hat had finished its song and the Sorting was about to commence but because of Lacie's words. She was right. They had been together, playing with each other since they could play, reading together since they could read, flying together since they could fly. _Nothing _was going to tear them apart. They were twins for goodness sake. They were too similar to dislike each other.

"Abbott, Hannah."

"HUFFLEPUFF."

"Of course, only the first person to be Sorted has to be a bloody Hufflepuff, don't they? That doesn't bode well for the rest of us." Draco muttered to Lacie. She had been watching the Sorting with great interest and was ruffled about having to tear her eyes off the sight of it for one second. Draco could tell that she was annoyed.

Especially when she made a comment on his language. And his manners.

Draco sighed. Sometimes he wished that Lacie wasn't so much like their mother. She had been trained by their mother to be polite in public and react to stressful situations with poise and grace. Draco chuckled under his breath. It had to be why Lacie apologised. _She was simply following Mother's instructions. _

"Granger, Hermione."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco smirked. Of course, Granger would have to be in that House, the interfering Mudblood. Draco was thankful that he would be spared the mercy from sharing too many classes with her interference.

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><p>"Malfoy, Draco."<p>

Hermione watched with little interest as the pale, proud Draco Malfoy stepped up to the three-legged stool and awaited his own Sorting. He needn't have sat down as the Sorting Hat immediately placed him in "SLYTHERIN!"

_I guess Lacerta was right when she said that all Malfoys were Slytherins_, Hermione thought. She shook her head. She had no reason to doubt Lacerta. Hermione tore her thoughts away from her, it was getting scary, the way that her thoughts seemed to have one common thread. Lacerta.

"Malfoy, Lacerta."

Hermione watched as Lacerta glided through the throng of first-years and made her way to the three-legged stool that her brother had sat on moments before. Her gentle movements were quite unlike her brother's hunched steps. Her hair had been pulled aside so that it rested on her right shoulder. Lacerta looked up, the flickering light of the candles reflected on her pale face and she watched as Professor McGonagall place the Sorting Hat on her head.

Draco had stopped on his journey to the Slytherin table and was watching Lacerta's Sorting with a hopeful look on his face. He was probably waiting for Lacerta, so that they could join the table together.

Her body was unnaturally straight as she awaited an answer. She had probably expected the Sorting Hat to place her in Slytherin quicker than it had. However, Hermione could tell that she was patient unlike her brother.

Lacerta's eyes widened and her mouth moved slightly as she spoke to the Sorting Hat. Her head shook more frantically and her face dropped and whitened, even though her face was so pale.

_What is she complaining about?_

Hermione's question was soon answered as the Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione's jaw dropped, much like Draco's jaw had dropped across the Great Hall. He had stiffened and he turned around swiftly, hiding the redness on his cheeks.

Lacerta Malfoy was saying something to Professor McGonagall and her face was flushed with red. Professor McGonagall seemed to push her in the direction of the Gryffindor table, even though Lacerta didn't want to move. She had to, since the Professor had called out the name of the next first-year. Lacerta walked towards the Gryffindor Table, her head bowed and her steps lacking the grace they had before.

Hermione stood up to welcome Lacerta to the Gryffindor table as she walked reluctantly towards the table. When Lacerta looked up at Hermione, her eyes were burning pools of silver. A _brimming _pool of silver.

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><p><em>Note: Lacerta is a faint constellation, bordering the likes of Andromeda and Cassiopeia. It is also the genus of lizards and the constellation itself is referred to as "The Lizard". I pronounce it LA-SER-TA. In the story, Lacerta will be referred to as Lacie, a short waymodern way of saying Lacerta. (Unfortunately Draco doesn't get the same privilege - Dudley is already 'Big D')_

_Lacie is an original character. Please treat her nice. _

_From, Becky x_


	2. The Speech Planned

_Disclaimer to JK Rowling._

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Speech Planned<strong>

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><p>"<em><strong>Watch out for intellect,<br>because it knows so much it knows nothing  
>and leaves you hanging upside down,<br>mouthing knowledge as your heart  
>falls out of your mouth." <strong>_

**Anne Sexton from **_**Admonitions to a Special Person**_

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><p>"Malfoy, Lacerta."<p>

Lacerta stepped between her eventual fellow classmates towards the Sorting Hat. She had just seen Draco automatically being Sorted into Slytherin and she couldn't wait to join him. She forced herself not to run towards the stool where the Hat was and kept a slow pace, just like her mother had taught her. McGonagall placed the Hat onto her head.

"_Interesting_," a small voice in her head said. "_You're very interesting, do you know that?"_

Lacerta didn't move. She didn't want the people about her thinking that she had voices in her head. She just kept her composure and her smile fixed.

"_You're a Malfoy, aren't you? And from your mother's side you're a Black as well, you have a pure Slytherin background, it's all here, everything. I can see your mind and it's interesting."_

It was the Hat speaking to her. The Hat was picking through her head.

_You know my family is purely Slytherin, _she thought, hoping that the Hat could hear her thoughts, _yet you are taking your time placing me there._

"_Maybe that's because I don't think that you belong there," _The Hat said to her.

"That's absurd, if I don't belong in Slytherin, where do I belong?"

She had muttered it out aloud and looked like a mad person for it, but she didn't care. The Hat had started speaking to her again.

"_I see that you have courage. You go against your family values. You don't believe in _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_, do you?"_

"Please, my whole family have been in Slytherin. I don't belong anywhere else," Lacerta whispered fearfully.

"_You cannot see your courage like I do. I would like others to see it too. I would like to place you somewhere where you can nurture your courage and make it part of who you are..."_

Lacerta's eyes widened as she realised where the Sorting Hat was going to place her. She wasn't going into _that_ House. Draco was in Slytherin. He was waiting for her to join Slytherin! _I don't want to go anywhere else! Please put me in Slytherin!_

"_Don't fret. You will do well in Gryffindor - …" _

Lacerta shook her head frantically. She couldn't hear the rest of its sentence. She didn't want to hear its outrageous justification for what it was going to do. All she wanted to do was to change its mind!

_Please, please, please! I need to be with my brother, please, can you rethink your decision?_

The Sorting Hat didn't reconsider, as he promptly said, "GRYFFINDOR" without further ado.

Lacerta watched Draco's jaw drop and his cheeks redden before he stalked off to his own respective table. Her chest wrenched with pain as she saw the betrayed look on his face as he sat down.

"Miss Malfoy, please go sit at your House's table," McGonagall said. She had gone very white whereas Lacerta could feel her cheeks burning.

"Professor, this has got to be a mistake, a joke even, I am not a _Gryffindor," _Lacerta said in an incredibly Malfoy-like manner. It was impossible! Nothing of the sort happened, especially to the Malfoy family.

"The Sorting Hat has placed you in Gryffindor, you _must _sit at that table," McGonagall said.

Lacerta stood up, "No! Malfoys do not get Sorted into Gryffindor. Malfoys are Slytherins...always, Slytherin."

"Miss Malfoy, I know that this has come as a great shock to you but, _please sit down at your table_." McGonagall also gave her a little nudge in the direction of the table, all of which were staring at her with great interest.

"Please, Professor, please can I get ReSorted?" Lacerta whispered, with a hint of unMalfoylike desperation. She was literally begging now. And Malfoys did not beg.

McGonagall ignored her. She look the Hat off Lacerta and called out, "Moon, Celestia" and the Sorting continued. Lacerta had been defeated. She watched as Celestia walked up to the platform with a confused expression as to why Lacerta was still there. Lacerta clenched her fists and walked towards the Gryffindor table. She was angry with herself, for being herself. Why had she apologised to Granger? Why had she stopped Draco from calling Weasley a blood traitor? Why was she adamant that she should give Neville his toad back? Draco had been right. She had acted like a bloody Gryffindor. How stupidly ironic.

She sniffed as she walked towards the Gryffindor table. Her throat tightened. _I am not going to cry! _She closed her eyes slightly but all she could see was Draco's betrayed face as she was forced to sit on the other side of the Great Hall from him. She looked up.

Hermione Granger had stood up to welcome her to the table. Lacerta shot her the best glare that she could muster. The girl faltered slightly and gave her a small smile but she didn't sit back down, despite hearing a hiss from another person to sit down. Lacerta could feel her eyes prickle, like she was going to cry, but she wasn't. She was determined to make it through this meal at least and then she would speak to someone in charge. Not Professor McGonagall, she had already proved that she was useless. Lacerta looked across the Great Hall and saw Draco's back faced towards her.

_He's deliberately sat there so he could avoid looking at me. _Lacerta's breath came out raggedly as she felt something within her wrench apart. She could see Draco move a little, a twitch that indicated that he _wanted _to meet her gaze, but he knew he shouldn't.

_Draco must have felt it_, that sensation that tore through her, not caring what damage it did, Draco must have felt it or he wouldn't have reacted at all. They were _twins_, for goodness sake! You didn't split up twins.

Except for the Patil twins, that didn't count. They didn't look as if they bonded well anyway. They didn't seem to have the same bond that Draco and Lacerta shared. Being in a different house wouldn't affect them as much as it would affect Draco and Lacerta. Lacerta also had the nagging feeling that neither of those twins was as childish as Draco was.

It was that moment where Lacerta knew then that she needed to be ReSorted as quickly as possible. She needed to be reunited with her brother, her twin, before everything was ruined between them.

* * *

><p>Hermione watched as Lacerta didn't touch anything from the golden plates when the food was presented in front of them. Two seats to the right of her was sat Ronald Weasley (whom Hermione was sad to know, now shared classes with her) and he was physically shoving as much food as he could get his hands out through his mouth. He could barely speak and Hermione regarded him with disgust. Even Harry was staring at him, probably internally wondering what the hell had possessed his friend and whether or not the demon was going to leave his body any time soon. Lacerta didn't seem to be perturbed by Ronald's comments about the quality of the food at Hogwarts and she continued on her lonely fast.<p>

It put Hermione off her food. Hermione put her knife and fork down. She still had half of her plate filled, but she didn't particularly care.

"Lacerta, are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"Don't speak to me," Lacerta snapped. She looked away from her plate and lifted the sleeve of her robe to her face. For a while she hid behind the sleeve but after a while, she put her hand back on the table, her face was significantly redder than it had been before. She had also begun to sniff.

Hermione was concerned.

Hermione stared at her, wondering what Lacerta could possibly be thinking about when she looked up and stared across the Great Hall. For a second, Draco Malfoy caught her eye and he turned around stiffly. Hermione could vaguely see the tips of his ears redden because he had been caught looking at Lacerta by Hermione. Hermione ignored that, and turned her attention back to Lacerta.

Hermione didn't say anything to Lacerta, as she was afraid that she would snap at her again. She simply watched as Lacerta didn't eat or speak or look at anyone, not even when Nearly Headless Nick showed how he was 'nearly headless'. Hermione stared at her half-eaten plate and felt slightly guilty for eating so heartily when Lacerta hadn't.

"Please eat something." She stared at her plate and almost willed her food to be on Lacerta's golden plate rather than her own.

"I. Don't. Want. To." Each word was emphasised through gritted teeth. Lacerta's fist clenched around her knife and fork but she didn't raise them to threaten Hermione in any manner. Hermione gulped a little and looked at Lacerta.

Hermione didn't understand what Lacerta was going through and she didn't know where to begin trying. Hermione just knew that if Lacerta didn't eat something soon, she was going to be hungry later and would regret not eating.

Hermione reached for the soup bowl, seeing as if Lacerta didn't want to eat she could at least indulge in some tomato soup, but the ladle disappeared between her fingers, along with the soup and the surrounding food. Hermione gasped a little and settled down. Her half-empty plate had also disappeared to some unknown location. A few seconds later, the golden plates that lay down the middle of the Gryffindor Table refilled, this time with desserts of every kind.

"Dessert?"

Lacerta didn't answer Hermione's question. Instead her jaw twitched as she eyed the chocolate trifle. Hermione took this as a hint and reached for it and put a spoonful on Lacerta's empty plate.

Lacerta looked up at her and glared again, something that had shocked Hermione the first time she had seen it grace her doll-like features, but Hermione was a little used to it now.

"You have to eat something," Hermione reasoned.

Lacerta pushed the plate away, "I'm not hungry."

Hermione tried to nudge it back, when Lacerta resisted, Hermione sighed. "Look, Lacerta. If you don't eat, you won't have the energy to fight to be ReSorted. If you have no strength, they're just going to look at you and laugh and ignore you."

Lacerta looked at her plate. Hermione could hear her gulp a little and her grey eyes were screaming for the chocolate trifle. She kept staring at the plate before pushing it away.

"I don't want to eat it."

Hermione made a frustrated noise. "Fine, if you don't eat, then I won't eat."

Hermione crossed her arms to emphasise her point.

"Do you really think that is going to make me eat?" Lacerta asked, a sly smile crept on her face as she watched Hermione sit straight on the bench and cross her arms, to prevent herself from reaching for anything to eat.

"Er..." Hermione said. She really didn't have a clue. She was just hoping that it worked. It was becoming clearer that pure hope was going to do nothing when it came to challenging Lacerta and hopefully making her eat something.

"It won't, you know. Only one person can," Lacerta whispered. "You're not him."

Hermione looked over Lacerta's shoulder and saw Draco looking at them again. Again, Draco whirled around before Hermione could definitively say that he had been looking at them. She just had a gut feeling that Draco had been staring at them for the entire Sorting Feast.

"Even if I'm not, don't you owe it to Draco to at least eat something?" Hermione asked.

Lacerta's glare deepened, "Don't call him Draco like you're familiar with him, Granger."

Hermione almost stood up to walk away from Lacerta. Lacerta had gone _crazy._ No, she was suffering a breakdown. She was no longer the girl that had told her that Mudblood was an offensive term or someone who stopped her brother from starting a fight. She was the girl that would keep Neville's toad for longer and Hermione couldn't stand it.

Yet, yet...

She had seen the nice side of Lacerta, the side that Hermione had wanted to be friends with. She was upset. She was clearly someone who dearly loved her brother and was hurt by the Hat's decision to place her in a rival House. She was just upset.

Hermione chanted that through her mind, even though Lacerta was opening glaring at her.

"...And my dad had a complete shock when me mam told me dad about being a witch," a thick, Irish accent carried down the table as the person opposite to Hermione but two, spoke jovially to some older Gryffindors. They were nodding at him and they saw Hermione looking at them. Hermione looked down immediately.

"Oi, what's your name?" a voice called out. Hermione didn't know if that person was speaking to her, but she knew that no one would probably even speak to her, so she ignored the person. When she received a nudge to her left she looked up. The girl that was sitting next to her moved her head slightly to the direction of the older students.

"What's your name?" a boy asked questioningly. He was grinning at her.

"Oh, be nice," a girl across from him, said, shoving his arm.

"I only asked her, her name," the boy protested, shoving the girl back. She sighed and turned to look at Hermione.

"I'm Katie Bell, by the way. The rude boy over there is Liam Banks."

"H-Hermione, Hermione Granger," Hermione stammered.

"Well, Hermione, why aren't you eating?" Liam asked with a large grin, "the food on the table isn't poisoned, you know, despite what _some people _think." His eyes flickered over to Lacerta before looking back at her. Across from her, Lacerta flinched.

"I'm not hungry," Hermione said quickly. Her cheeks had started to heat up as she was put on the spot.

"Oh really?" Liam asked, crossing his arms. He continued in a raised voice, "then again, if I was facing a little raincloud of doom, I would be put off the strawberry cheesecake too."

"Liam, stop being so unreasonable," Katie hissed across the table. Katie looked at Lacerta with a worried look. "You're being mean to a first-year."

"Sorry, couldn't hold it in. Can't help it, you know, not when my family were terrorised by _that _family. I lost some cousins too. Funny isn't it?" Liam said, his words coming out spitefully through gritted teeth. "Funny how I'm so close to the spawn of the person responsible of the fact that my cousins George, Max and Stephen will never see the light of day again. George would have been a seventh-year had he lived. He may have been Head Boy."

"Enough." The word had the same impact it had when she had said it outside the Great Hall but it was more resonating now that she had slammed a fist onto the table. Lacerta's anger was written on her face, if not, her pain. She turned to face Liam. "I'm sorry for all my family has done to wrong yours. However, the Banks are not innocent either. You killed one of the Lestrange triplets -..."

"Rightly so -..."

"_Rightly so?_ Just because the Lestranges are Death Eaters, it means that their lives aren't valuable too? Do you not think that what your family did in revenge for your cousins only catalysed what happened later to the Longbottoms?" Lacerta demanded down the table.

There was a deadly silence that rang across the table, for those who had heard what Liam and Lacerta were arguing about. Hufflepuffs that were near them and had listened to the end of their fight were staring at Lacerta.

Hermione reached over to Lacerta and touched her hand but she snatched it away. Hermione didn't know what to think. She had read about the Lestranges – they had been in the same book as Harry had been – and she knew that they were locked up in the Wizarding prison, Azkaban, for doing something so terrible that the book wouldn't even account it. Hermione's felt herself gulp a little as she looked over at Neville. He was pretending that he was ignoring the fight even though he was next to Lacerta. He couldn't fool everyone, though. Someone had to know that he was just as aware of the conversation as the third-years further along the table were getting.

"I don't know how you have the insolence to even start talking about the Longbottoms," a girl next to Katie had spoken up. "Or even starting to consider the Lestranges are human for doing what they did."

"Leanne!" Katie muttered. "Don't make it worse."

"Yes, I know that what the Lestranges did to the Longbottoms was unforgivable, but -..."

"_How can you justify what they did to the Longbottoms?"_

The shriek had rung out before Katie could restrain her friend. Hermione saw as more people turned to see the commotion that was commencing on the Gryffindor table between Lacerta and the older second-years. Draco kept his back faced towards Lacerta but Hermione could see his friends, Gregory and Vincent, lifting themselves slightly off the bench to have a better view.

"Can we not talk about this?" Neville whimpered. Everyone looked at him. No one had noticed that they were making Neville uncomfortable by referring to some kind of relative of his. His eyes had gotten wet by a considerable amount and Hermione felt like walking around the table to give him a comforting hug. Lacerta bit her tongue. For the first time since she had sat down at the Gryffindor table, her gaze softened when she looked at Neville beside her.

"See, now you've made Neville cry, good job Malfoy." Liam spat with disgust. Further insults were drowned out by the disappointment of dessert leaving the table so early and having to sing the school hymn. Hermione could almost see from the corner of her eye, Professor Dumbledore eyeing Lacerta with an anxious expression. Hermione wondered internally if he had heard everything that had been said and had orchestrated the charade of having to sing the hymn in order to distract the people from picking on Lacerta.

She definitely had different views on everyone here. People seemed to challenge her views but... Hermione hated to admit it, but she was almost right. Lacerta seemed to believe that every single person was equal – which was why the Lestranges had been fairly trialled and given life imprisonment for what they had done to the Longbottoms, because the Longbottoms had been humans too. If the Lestranges had been provoked by an attack to one of their triplets from one member of the Banks' family, was it fair to the Lestranges? Was it fair for the Banks' family member to walk free?

Hermione didn't understand what it meant to be a twin, or a triplet, but Lacerta certainly did. Hermione puzzled over it. Maybe Lacerta was particularly sympathetic towards the Lestranges because she knew what she would feel if she had ever lost Draco. Hermione could see the evidence in front of her now. Lacerta didn't even want to eat because she was separated with her twin, the one she had shared a womb with. Who knew what she would do if Draco died.

Hermione sang along, following the tune that most of the Hogwarts students had come up with but opposite her, Lacerta remained tight-lipped. She didn't even smirk when a pair of older students sang along morosely to the rather jovial song after everyone had finished when Hermione did.

* * *

><p>"Off you trot!"<p>

The man was delusional. Did he really think that Lacerta was going to wherever the Gryffindors resided? Lacerta didn't even know much about the Gryffindor Common Room as she had heard more about the Slytherin one where she _should _be living in. The Slytherin Common Room had dark green leather sofas, with intricate silver snakes designed on them. She could almost visualise the dark-panelled four-poster beds that had green shimmering hangings from them... and she could visualise them waiting for her.

Draco was also waiting for her, waiting for her to be ReSorted into Slytherin. Lacerta could see him, in her mind's eye, and he was waiting for her with an expectant look.

It was gone, replaced by a complete look of betrayal. Lacerta felt sick. She had never seen the expression on her brother's face but now that she had, it was all she could think about.

"Come on," Hermione had somehow gotten across to Lacerta's side and she grabbed her arm.

Lacerta tried to move out of her grip but the girl clung on like Devil's Snare.

"I don't want to go," Lacerta said stubbornly, rooting herself to the ground. Hermione, however, was much stronger than her and moved her easily.

"I thought you were mature," Hermione muttered. "Yet you're acting just like your brother."

"Of course I'm like my brother," Lacerta snapped. "We're twins."

Hermione was starting to annoy her severely. Her free hand was itching to reach into her pocket and grab her wand to jinx the girl. Lacerta frowned a little. Her thoughts were going too far and spiralling out of her control. She took a deep breath, listened to the voice in her mind (which sounded vaguely like her mother) and she slowly she raised her itching hand and tried to shove Hermione off her as politely as she could.

She _really _was like Devil's Snare. The more Lacerta struggled, the more Hermione clung onto her and dragged her in the direction of the other Gryffindors. After doing what seemed like a drunken waltz, Lacerta relented. She let Hermione walk her behind the Gryffindors. The first chance she got, Lacerta was going to sprint as fast as she could away from the line and duck behind the masses of pupils heading towards their Common Rooms. She had heard that the Slytherin Common Room was in the dungeons, so she would have to venture downwards.

Lacerta could feel herself drifting away. She was tired but she was also determined. The ache of hunger kept her awake, at least, and the threat of people hearing her stomach rumble loudly kept her on edge enough for her to stay alert. The first-year Gryffindors were following twists and turns, up the Marble Staircase and down some steps and then behind a tapestry, to reach their Common Room. Finally, they had gotten to a widened corridor that had floating candles on each side of a portrait.

In the portrait, was a rather large woman. Lacerta snickered and raised an eyebrow. _So this is the guardian of the Gryffindor Common Room_, she thought to herself, _how trivial._

"Password?"

Lacerta almost burst out laughing and asked the redheaded, no-doubt Weasley, Prefect if it was some sort of a joke. She restrained herself at the last moment. Her mother's voice about social grace was still fresh in her mind.

_Gryffindors are so plebeian! _She thought to herself with a smile. She could remember this game from a young age, where she did not allow Draco into her room without the password. They had been four at the time and had long since grown out of the "password-entry" game. Now, the rather large woman was refusing to let her into the Common Room without the password. It just showed how childish the Gryffindors were to continue these games into adulthood.

_Fine by me, I don't want to enter the Gryffindor Common Room anyway._

The Prefect in front of them spoke the password that Lacerta didn't care to listen. She wasn't going to enter anyway. She knew how she was going to get away. A plan had already formed in her head. She was going to make Hermione believe she was going to step foot in the Common Room before leaving at the last second. Hermione had already loosened her grip and it was beginning to get easier to slip out of her clinging arms.

Hermione stepped into the Common Room, awe coloured her face and she even let go of Lacerta. Lacerta took her chance. She spun around quicker than someone who was going to Apparate and she _ran. _The portrait had closed before Hermione could even call out her name. Lacerta was _free_ at last. She could reunite her brother.

She didn't even make it to the end of the corridor.

* * *

><p>"Miss Malfoy," Minerva said with a tight voice. "Please follow me."<p>

The girl gave her an insolent look but her shoulders sagged and she nodded. Her hair stuck to her face and wasn't the neat locks that Minerva had seen when she first laid eyes on her. Minerva sighed. She had been through the exact same thing before.

A lengthy twenty years ago, a young Sirius Black had refused to believe that he was a Gryffindor when he thought his destiny lay in Slytherin. He had made fast friends with James Potter, a Gryffindor through and through, but at the last minute he ran into Minerva, a newly elected Head of Gryffindor. She had spoken with him. Although, Minerva didn't approve of Sirius Black's actions in his future since that point, she knew she could sympathise with him now if his views had remained the same. So, for that reason, she was going to sympathise the girl who was in the exact same position that was trailing behind her as well.

Minerva led her down to her office and she opened the door for Lacerta Malfoy. The young girl walked in and stood in front of the desk with her head bowed down. Minerva swept behind her desk and took her seat.

"Take a seat, Miss Malfoy," said Minerva, looking at the chair opposite her.

"No, thank you, Professor." Her voice was clipped, polished and slightly forced. Minerva knew it was a product of training from her mother and Lacerta was certainly living up to the role of being polite when in the company of others. Whilst Minerva was glad that Lacerta was going to be polite, she was also going to be uncooperative and find loopholes in Minerva's words.

"I wasn't asking."

Lacerta looked up at her with a reproachful stare and walked towards the chair. She sat on the edge of it, her posture unnaturally straight. It make Minerva's spine hurt, wondering how she was sitting up so straight. She pushed it out of her thoughts as it was not relevant.

"Ginger snap?" Minerva offered. She held out a box of her favourite biscuits in front of Lacerta.

"I'm not hungry."

Minerva kept the box in front of Lacerta, "You didn't eat during the Feast." It wasn't a question.

Lacerta answered her anyway, "I wasn't hungry."

Minerva noted the use of the past tense and continued to look at her.

Lacerta seemed to realise her mistake as she added, "I'm still not hungry."

Her stomach seemed to object to that. Minerva raised her eyebrows at her and shook the box. Flushing a deep crimson, Lacerta reached out and took one. She bit into it gingerly. Minerva put the box down. Lacerta ate the whole biscuit and Minerva decided it was time to continue.

"Miss Malfoy, I realise that this was unexpected for you - ..."

"I want to be ReSorted, please." That hadn't been a polite request despite what it sounded like. It was typical of Malfoys to be a little difficult, especially as most of them had been spoiled and given everything they've wanted. _It's going to take a lot of persuasion to try and convince her to think otherwise_, Minerva thought. She pushed that out of her thoughts as well. She wasn't one to back down and give up.

"Miss Malfoy, - ..."

"Must I repeat myself, Professor?"

Minerva's mouth almost dropped open but she managed to keep it closed. She felt her eyebrow rise, however, at the impertinence of the child.

"You have enough respect to call me _Professor." _She paused and composed herself. Lacerta was nowhere as intolerable as the Weasley twins could be, so if Minerva could handle them on a day where she had first-year Slytherins misbehaving in class and a stack of seventh-year essays to mark, then Minerva could handle a young girl. "I trust you have enough respect to listen to me?"

Lacerta stared at her, tight-lipped. She didn't exactly say otherwise. _That was all that mattered at the current moment._

Minerva continued on from what she was originally going to say.

"I realise that this was unexpected for you, but believe me, it was every bit as unexpected for me as well."

"Was that because you assumed that I would be in Slytherin with my beloved twin brother?" Lacerta said sarcastically, inflecting her tone on words in exactly the right places. "I assume you guessed wrong, unless you put me in Slytherin, then you would be right."

Minerva's eyebrow rose further. The girl was playing on Minerva's ego. True, Minerva liked to be proven right but she knew when she could be wrong and Minerva was willing to accept that this was the case this time.

"Miss Malfoy, why are you so...opposed to being in Gryffindor?"

"It's not Slytherin."

Minerva smirked. Of course, she would answer that, and immediately too. It was slightly impressive how fixated her mind was.

_Not unlike yours sometimes_, a voice said. Minerva chuckled internally at that.

"Why? Is Slytherin the more - shall we say, superior - House?" Minerva asked, leaning forwards and narrowing her eyes slightly.

Lacerta blushed a little and shook her head, "I-I didn't want to give _that_ impression, Professor."

The change in tone was what convinced Minerva that Lacerta was merely putting on an act. Her frosty demeanour was only something to make Minerva believe that she was an independent child who had been trained to the highest standards expected of a Pureblood.

Minerva remembered those lessons well, something that her mother hadn't enforced on her after trying to do so for about a year and a half. The hot-tempered teenage Minerva didn't cope well under the pressure that her mother gave her and in the end, the training stopped. Despite this, Minerva did, and could still, recall the few Pureblood customs as it wasn't something one could easily forget, having to concentrate your willpower and commit your strength into it. Minerva could also remember – and she shuddered at the thought – the core of all of her training. _Never show them that you're afraid. You're in control of the situation you're in. Do not let them break you into pieces. Only the strong ones live._

Minerva decided to use that to try and get into Lacerta's way of thinking.

"Then what is it about Gryffindor you don't like? Your fellow Gryffindors? The Common Room? The Fat Lady?"

Lacerta accompanied each of these with a frantic shake of the head.

"Then, what, Miss Malfoy? What is bothering you so much about my House of which you demand to be ReSorted?"

Her voice had gotten gradually louder and higher-pitched, giving the impression of heightening anger. Lacerta looked almost aghast. She then stopped for a second and seemed to collect her thoughts. Her cheeks lost a little of its colour from her blush.

"Professor, I hope I haven't made you angry."

Minerva almost said something that would reveal that she was at her wit's end because her plan didn't seem to have worked. Almost.

"Tell me, Miss Malfoy," her voice was stern again.

"I don't have a problem with Gryffindor, Professor, it is a merely a case of withholding the family name."

Minerva chuckled slightly. "Are you telling me that you're throwing a tantrum, or what seems to be a tantrum, because you think your father will not approve?"

"I also do not approve - ..."

"But you said you didn't have a problem with Gryffindor, Miss Malfoy."

She opened her mouth and closed it again.

"Are you afraid your family will hate you?" Minerva asked softly.

"Disown me," Lacerta said in a soft voice. "I happen to like being a Malfoy, even if the name is stigmatised."

"Sirius Black was disowned but that didn't stop him from being a Black," Minerva said truthfully.

"Sirius Black didn't have a twin brother, did he?"

"He did have a brother that was very close to him," Minerva informed her, "At school, they put up a front to everyone else and made everyone believe that they were enemies but behind closed doors, there was only one person closer to Sirius than Regulus was."

"Who was that?" Lacerta asked inquisitively. Her grey eyes seemed to sparkle at Minerva's words.

Just thinking about it, Minerva's chest seemed to rise shakily as her throat seemed to clog up. It was like she couldn't breathe because of the two words she had to say. She broke through this and managed to say in a strong voice, "James Potter."

"Potter, as in, Harry Potter?"

"Mr Potter's father."

"So, _that's_ the reason he's in Azkaban - ..." Minerva flinched a little as Lacerta spoke quietly to herself, "... when his best friend was killed, he went on a murder rampage."

Minerva felt like telling her the real reason that he went on the murder rampage but she knew, in the deepest levels of her heart, that there was no use digging up old skeletons.

"Sirius Black was also a Gryffindor," Minerva said, "After generations upon generations of Slytherins. Sirius was the first and only Black family member to be Sorted into Gryffindor."

"I feel a little like Sirius Black at the moment," Lacerta whispered. "I don't feel as if I would fit in with my family after my Sorting."

"There is a reason you are placed where you are," Minerva said kindly, "You must possess some of Godric's handpicked traits and therefore you were placed in his House."

"I don't think that I'm very brave or chivalrous," she replied. She paused for a moment and then closed her eyes in defeat.

"Miss Malfoy?" Minerva asked tentatively.

"I knew I shouldn't have helped her when Draco was teasing her, he was _only _teasing and the toad – why? Why did I have to return the toad? Now, it's gotten me into this mess!"

"Miss Malfoy!"

"_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper_, Professor," Lacerta said, her grey eyes boring into Minerva, "that is what is important to me."

Minerva knew the ridiculous Malfoy family motto. _Purity always conquers_. Minerva was shaking with anger at the words. It was just like the Black family motto: _Toujours Pur_. It was unnecessary in the current Wizarding society where things like purity was fading out. Without Muggles, magic would almost be obsolete by now, especially since some Pureblood families were intermarrying to satisfy a second Aunt once removed.

"Do you honestly believe that 'purity always conquers, Miss Malfoy?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Why is that?"

"I also do not know."

Minerva stared at her, "Well, what _do_ you know?"

That sounded a little rude, upon thinking about it, but she couldn't help herself. She kept her mouth shut.

"I know that when we wake up, we're human and when we fall asleep, we're still human."

Minerva raised an eyebrow and said, "You know that we're all equal."

"Not exactly," Lacerta replied, "I think we determine who we are in the period between waking up and falling back asleep." She stood up and started to pace about, her voice getting a little more animated, "I know you know about the training, the training all Purebloods must undergo as they grow up, you _must _have been trained the customs, the arts, Professor."

"I was."

"When do did you start?" Her voice still was animated.

"Eleven, and every summer until I was thirteen."

"I've been training since I was five."

Minerva almost gasped. _Five? What were Lucius and Narcissa thinking to force a child to start learning something so advanced at such a young age?_

"Mother was adamant that I start at seven, because that was when children showed that they were magical but Father was hasty and demanded I start at five. Draco just started this summer, although he doesn't put much effort into it."

Minerva kept calm. The other half of her wanted to write to Lucius and give him a piece of her mind.

"When I was five, I was learning customs that had been passed down for centuries," Lacerta said, her eyes shining with the same sparkle they had when she had asked who Sirius' best friend had been. "Let's take Hermione Granger for an example, mainly because she is a Muggle-born, at the age of five, she was probably playing in a Nursery preparing for her first year of primary school whereas I was learning customs by rote."

"I determined my path as I trained harder, learnt more customs and learnt the arts of hosting and of grace. By the time that Hermione had started to read, I had already advanced to history books of information. When she learnt to write, I was already painting with the sophistication of someone in his or her late teens. Before she had even learnt of charm of appeal, I had learnt the skill of keeping one's attention and I grow from strength to strength, Professor, notice how I pace and yet your eyes are focused precisely on my movements?"

Minerva noticed that she had been staring at Lacerta, even as she moved left to right and back again. Minerva took her gaze off her.

"What is the relevance of this to Gryffindor?"

"I believe the longer I stay in Gryffindor, the less I will believe in _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper."_

Minerva sighed, "Is that a bad thing?"

After pacing for a while in silence, Lacerta sat back down. When Minerva looked at her, she was rocking in her seat, possibly contemplating Minerva's question.

"I don't know." It was a small whisper that lingered in the windless air.

Minerva glanced over to her clock. It was already eleven.

"I suppose it would be a waste of my breath to convince you to retire to Gryffindor Tower, wouldn't it?"

The girl said nothing.

Minerva took this for a resounding _yes_ and took her wand from her sleeve.

"You may sleep in here," Minerva said. With a wave of her wand, Minerva's unused trunk turned into a reasonable sized bed. Lacerta eyed it gingerly and gave her a brief nod, showing that it was acceptable. For tonight only.

"Believe me when I say this, Miss Malfoy, I will not accept this sort of childish behaviour from people in my House. Either you will sort it out in the morning or you keep your toe in line, is that understood?"

Lacerta gave her another brief nod. Reluctant but not immature.

"Additionally, I believe that whatever troubles you have are in vain. I highly doubt your family will _hate_ you moreover I do not believe that they would disown you either so these ridiculous thoughts need to stop."

"Yes, Professor."

"Mr. Malfoy is your twin and I am aware of the bond that twins share, you may be Sorted into different Houses but that doesn't make you complete strangers each other. I do not think that Mr. Malfoy will forget that you shared a womb with him easily."

"Draco thinks I've betrayed him." Another whisper.

"Assure him you have not."

"It's not easy when I've been Sorted into the do-good House he despises along with the rest of my family."

Minerva raised an eyebrow as she was the Head of said do-good House.

"Sorry." A mere mutter this time.

"If he does not speak with you, then maybe you should stay away from him. Forget this _Purity Always Conquers _nonsense and find friends that have no expectations of you. You spoke of a Hermione Granger, maybe you should befriend her seeing as she is in fact in the same House."

Lacerta nodded distractedly. Minerva wondered internally if her words were going in one ear and then out the other.

"Can I have something to help me sleep?"

Minerva looked at her. The young girl did look very worn out yet worried.

_It is probably best for her to have something to aid her sleep._

Minerva waved her wand again, this time she conjured a glass. She poured a little water from a jug that was sitting on her desk before she went to her cupboards and searched through them. She scanned several bottles of potions – potions that had come handy when she had several rowdy Gryffindors in her office, namely the Weasley twins – and found the potion that she had been looking for. It was the same colour as the hot milk that Lacerta was sipping quietly. She walked over to Lacerta and placed the small bottle in front of her.

"You may add as much as you want in your drink, several drops should be sufficient," Minerva advised. The girl reached out for the vial and added four drops in total.

It wasn't long before her eyelids started to droop and she fell asleep, making raspy breathing noises as she did.

_She does look quite peaceful when she's sleeping, _Minerva thought to herself but she put the image of Lacerta Malfoy sleeping out of her mind. She looked peaceful all the time, even when she was making a point, demanding something or shouting at her. Minerva had secretly watched her from the teachers' table as she shot words to a second-year. She was composed and didn't let her voice rise about normal conversation levels to prove a point, unlike Leanne and Liam had.

She was unique. Minerva would give her that much. Minerva could say that she already had taken a shine to the girl, but that alone wasn't enough to make her survive Hogwarts, especially since people had already Marked her. Draco Malfoy was going to be particularly difficult too and Minerva didn't like him as much.

Minerva had high hopes for Lacerta. Lacerta was practised in the pureblood society, how to speak to others and capture their undivided attention – Minerva could see that Hermione Granger was already fond of the girl, though it was unlikely she knew her well – and she was also from a Dark Wizarding family. Minerva could really tell that Lacerta didn't believe that purity always conquers. She was going to be an example for everyone. She was going to show Dark Wizarding families across Britain that whilst purity may conquer, other things also help conquer too. Such as the courage that her Gryffindors embodied.

She thought back to what Lacerta had told her in confidence. The Hat had specifically placed her in Gryffindor so she would grow in courage. Minerva almost danced to that. She was sure of it. She was sure that Lacerta was going to join the obnoxious Purebloods and the discriminated Muggleborns together. She was sure of it.

With that thought in mind, she waved her wand again and Lacerta's body rose into the air.

_In spite of everything that she may believe is wrong for her, in her heart of hearts, she knows that it's completely right._

* * *

><p>Lacerta rolled over, stretching her muscles slightly. The bed seemed more comfortable than it looked. Of course, since Professor McGonagall had Transfigured it straight out of a trunk, it was more realistic that it was uncomfortable. She didn't know that the Professor's Transfiguration skills were <em>that <em>adept.

Lacerta opened her eyes and saw that she was not in the office that Professor McGonagall had taken her to the previous night. In fact, she was in a dormitory. She was sure of it. The bed-hangings and the four-poster bed told her this much. For a second, Lacerta thought that she was in the Slytherin girls' dormitory and that the Hat had reconsidered her Sorting and placed her in Slytherin whilst she was asleep.

That illusion was shattered the moment a girl dragged the dormitory curtains open and sunlight poured into the dormitory, casting light into the room and through Lacerta's crimson bed-hangings.

She was not in the Slytherin girls' dormitory. She was in the Gryffindor one.

Lacerta screamed, drawing all her fury and despair in one loud scream that would, without question, pierce every Gryffindor's head, if not, wake them up for lessons.

* * *

><p><em>I hope you liked this chapter :)<em>

_Becky.  
><em>


	3. A Penny For Your Thoughts, Lacerta

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

_I know that this is late, sorry! I had so much to do, I will post this weekend as usual, promise :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: A Penny for your thoughts, Lacerta<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>He forced every male in the court<br>to scour his tongue with Bab-o  
>lest they poison the air she dwelt in."<strong>_

**Anne Sexton from **_**Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty)**_

* * *

><p>Harry covered his ears as a scream pierced through and back of his head. He turned his head in the direction of the screaming and saw a flurry of movement from the left side of the Common Room, where the girl's dormitory were. His yawn was visible, as he couldn't cover it due to having to somewhat cover his ears. At least no one was staring at him and he could save himself the embarrassment. After he had finished his yawn, Harry noticed that the girl was still screaming. Harry stared at her. It was too early for that volume of noise. Fatigue rolled over Harry again, tempting him to yawn again.<p>

"I. Don't. Want. To. Be. In. Here!" a small figure stormed down the stairs and across the Common Room. Behind her, Hermione Granger was following her in her pink dressing gown.

"But, Professor McGonagall - ..."

"She _lied _to me!" the girl stopped a few yards away from Harry. Harry looked at her in mild surprise as her robes were creased and her hair seemed messier than his – a feat for her seeing as his hair was _impossibly_ untidy on a good day – and her face was bright red. It looked as if she had slept in her school robes. Harry could only imagine the horrified look that Aunt Petunia would give her, had she entered the Dursley house in a similar fashion.

His staring caused her to glare at him with grey eyes that were entirely too familiar. Harry almost gasped in surprise. _She _was the girl that Ron had been speaking about the previous night. The last time Harry had paid any sort of attention to her, she had been standing with utmost pride and her robes looked as if they had just been pressed to perfection. Ron did have a point in saying that her family were a little unexpected at times. Harry wondered if this was one of these occasions.

Nevertheless Harry couldn't stop thinking, despite himself, that she was still pretty. Just a little bit.

"She - ..."

"I hate you all!" the girl screamed, whirling around and pointing a finger at the circle of Gryffindors that had gathered around her. "I hate this House. I hate having to share a Common Room and a dormitory with you _Mudbloods _and _blood traitors!"_

She stormed out of the Common Room to a stunned silence and the portrait slammed shut behind her. Silence covered the common room like a blanket of superiority.

"Good riddance!" Someone shouted after a while. It was met by tired jeers and a round of hearty applause before the rowdy noise of the Common Room resumed. Harry frowned. The older Gryffindors weren't being particularly nice, but she must have really offended them for them to react like that.

_She was a bit snotty towards them_, Harry thought, remembering vividly when Aunt Petunia had used that kind of tone with him. It wasn't particularly nice at all. Or she was barking mad and that was the reason for her dramatic change, the shock had completely addled her mind.

"Remind me, Ron, who was that again?" Harry turned to Ron who was standing on his right. He was still sneering in the direction that the girl had gone in.

"Lacerta Malfoy," his friend answered with an unfriendly drawl.

"What are... what did she even _say_?" Harry asked. Ron had started to walk towards the Portrait hole and Harry obligingly followed.

"Mudbloods and blood traitors?" Ron reminded him.

"Yeah."

"Well, Mudblood is a _really _offensive term for Muggleborns, it's like saying they have dirty blood because, you know, because they don't really come from a magical background," Ron explained as they stepped onto the wide corridor outside the Portrait hole and he said in a hushed voice, "it's stupid really but people like the Malfoys are big on blood-purity. They haven't had a Muggle-born in their line since the dawn of time, so they're what you call purebloods. As for blood traitors, they're the purebloods who are Muggle-born sympathisers." Ron paused for a moment, opened his mouth but no words came out. Finally he said, "My family have been these so-called blood traitors for centuries."

"No wonder everyone seemed happy that she had left," Harry muttered. Harry frowned a little. He was practically a Muggle-born with his lack of knowledge on the Wizarding world. He also knew little of his own heritage, aside from the fact that half of his family were Muggles, because of the Dursleys. For all he knew, Harry could be the son of two Muggleborns. That meant that Lacerta's insult struck him _directly_. And that stung. Slightly.

"I would be happier if she went back to Slytherin," Ron said under his breath. He inhaled and said in a much louder voice, "I told you, Malfoys are a load of prejudiced gits."

"_Ronald!_ That's really mean!" a chiding voice had come towards them in the form of Hermione Granger. She had changed out of her pink dressing gown at what seemed like breakneck speed as her top button was barely done and her Gryffindor tie hung untied around her neck. She must have had been in the process of tying it as her collar was sticking up but she had overheard them.

"What was mean? That the Malfoys are prejudiced gits?" Ron asked with an incredulous tone. "Well, they are!"

"Oh – don't you think it's hard enough for Lacerta anyway? Her brother has been Sorted into Slytherin, the House that her family have been in for centuries, not to mention that they're twins - ..."

"Does 'the Patil twins' ring a bell, or not, Hermione?" Ron interrupted. "I don't see Parvati, flouncing out of the Common Room in a self-important sort of manner after insulting us! She insulted you, if I remember correctly!"

"- ...And not to mention, almost everyone in the House _hates _her, and _already_ has an opinion on her before she was Sorted into the House."

"So what?" Ron asked stubbornly. Harry saw Hermione's fists clench a little and she had a look on her face that wasn't dissimilar from Dudley's when Dudley wanted to beat him to a pulp for grassing on him.

Harry knew it was the right moment to cut in, before things turned really ugly, "Well, to be fair Hermione, Lacerta hasn't been very welcoming since she was Sorted..."

Hermione turned to Harry, and for a second, Harry was afraid that she was going to hit him, just like Dudley would have. She sighed a little and looked at him with a resigned look. Her fist unclenched, and for that, Harry was somewhat relieved. "Harry, out of all the people in Gryffindor, I thought _you _would understand the most."

"Why me?" Harry asked as confusion coloured his tone.

"Well..." Hermione looked slightly troubled and bit her lip, "those Muggles that you stayed with. Were they ever welcoming to you?"

Harry was gobsmacked. "How the _hell _do you know about them?"

Harry had expected most people to know that he had lived with Muggles but he hadn't told anyone that they'd tried to stamp the magic out of him. _How the hell did she know that?_

She didn't give him an answer. Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile before sniffing and walking away briskly. Harry and Ron watched her, opened mouthed as she grew smaller in size as she got further away, her hands moving around her neck as she tied her school tie. As soon as she was out of earshot, Ron leaned towards his ear.

"I told you, mate, that Hermione Granger is _obsessed _with you. Who reads up on people they aren't obsessed with? She literally knows your back-story, and I wouldn't be surprised if she was obsessed with that Lacerta Malfoy too. I've seen the way that she looks at her. It's _sickening_."

Harry rolled his eyes. Ron was probably jealous, and he thought no more about Lacerta or Hermione. Nothing was going to deter him. After all, today he was going to learn _magic_.

* * *

><p>"Miss Malfoy."<p>

A warm voice shocked Lacerta as she tried to find her way out of the labyrinth that was the journey from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall (and possibly the Slytherin Common Room from there). Slowly, Lacerta turned around to face a jovial man that had a beard so long and thick that he used a buckled belt to tie it to his body.

This was the enigmatic Professor Dumbledore and he was peering at her through his half-moon spectacles.

"Headmaster," Lacerta said quietly, trying not to sound like she had been caught red-handed of any wrongdoing. Remembering what her mother had always taught her, she inclined her head forward and did a half-curtsey. "It is an honour to meet you sir."

"You are too kind," he chuckled and the sound did not falter in warmth. The apples of his cheeks reddened in his modesty. He studied her more carefully and Lacerta drew backwards. _What was he looking for?_

Her question was soon answered.

"You look troubled, Miss Malfoy."

Lacerta stared at him, wondering if the Headmaster was setting some sort of trap. Lacerta doubted it. _Now is your chance! There's no one with more authority than the Headmaster! _There was little doubt in Lacerta's mind whether or not to hold back what she wanted to say to the Headmaster. It was a little forward, and there was nothing that Lacerta could say to make it sound less so.

"I would like to be ReSorted, please," Lacerta asked, adding the please with extra emphasis. Had she been speaking to another Professor, she would have probably omitted it but she was aware of the influence that politeness could have on the Headmaster. If Lacerta played her cards right and said the right word with the right tone, she knew that Malfoys could achieve anything they wanted. Her father had taught her that lesson. She had seen with her own eyes how her father could reduce Draco to a sobbing wreck within seconds. She didn't doubt that Professor Dumbledore was going to resist against her smooth words.

_Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under 't. _Lacerta knew those words. They were the words of Shakespeare, a Wizarding wordsmith, whom her mother loved to quote. Lacerta could remember her mother brushing her long, blonde hair and whispering the words almost every day. No one would doubt that she was an innocent flower and no one would see that she was a serpent underneath that facade.

_Or a brave lion_.

Lacerta almost spoke out aloud to tell her mind to be quiet but she restrained herself. The thought had come out of nowhere, like the Hat's voice. Lacerta resisted the urge to shudder.

She was soon put off that urge as the Headmaster said, "Would you like to follow me, Miss Malfoy?"

With a small bowing of the head, Lacerta told the Headmaster that she would, indeed, follow him. She couldn't believe her luck. She didn't seem to notice that the Headmaster's steps were just as graceful as hers, even though they weren't as light as hers. It didn't even enter her mind, even though she was trailing the Headmaster. She was almost floating in surprise that the Headmaster had taken up on her offer to care about trivial things.

Professor Dumbledore led her to a large statue of a gargoyle. He placed a hand on the wing of the gargoyle and it hopped aside. The Professor turned to face Lacerta.

"After you," he said. His voice was still warm.

Lacerta walked past him and stepped onto the staircase, which was moving upwards. For a moment, Lacerta felt a little strange. It was an out-of-place sort of emotion and she didn't know how to react to it. She knew that she was probably going to be going to the Headmaster's office, but she didn't know why. The Headmaster did not seem angry – or content with her, for that matter – so she didn't know why he needed to speak with her in private. Was he, like the serpent beneath the flower, and was going to vilify her in the place where he was most familiar?

Lacerta reached a large wooden door, fear throbbing in her chest slightly.

"Go in," the Headmaster prompted.

Lacerta pushed the heavy door opened and stared into the circular office. Her dumbfounded steps into the office did not distract her as they lacked the grace that Lacerta had become accustomed to. She couldn't help but stare.

It was a stark contrast to the office that she had gone to when McGonagall had spoken to her. Lacerta would give it that.

It was almost a shrine to Hogwarts Headmasters of the past and the present Headmaster was adding his own flair to the archaic office. Silver spindly things sat on the desk, as if they would vaporise with a single brush against their fragile-looking legs. Little chocolate frogs jumped about the room, taunting the wizened Headmaster to the challenge of catching them and eating them. A glass cabinet revealed more treasures, a small little bowl with runes scraped delicately into the bowl and several vials of a cloudy potion.

"Please take a seat," a voice broke Lacerta out of her daydream. The Professor had taken a seat behind the desk.

Lacerta walked slowly towards the trinket-laden desk. Lacerta's gaze moved upwards for a second, her eyes lingering across the old Portraits, possibly making eye contact with several of them before settling on the Hat. She focused her stare towards the snoozing Hat, whose tip rose and fell with every little movement it made in its sleep. Lacerta took the seat in front of Dumbledore's desk, where he was perusing a large tome.

Lacerta inspected her nails as the Headmaster fondly turned the pages of the book.

"Do you know what this is?" Dumbledore asked after a while, gesturing towards the book.

"No," Lacerta responded truthfully.

"This book records every student that comes to Hogwarts, or is about to come to Hogwarts," the Headmaster answered, flicking through the old, thick pages, "It records their birthday, their House, whether or not they are of age... Alas," he stopped and pushed the book out towards Lacerta. "Here I am."

He pointed to a row within the book and Lacerta scanned it. It indeed had the Headmaster's name on it of a Sorting that had taken place more than a century ago.

Lacerta sat back in her seat, straightened herself and raised an eyebrow, as if to ask of the importance of this impromptu history lesson.

The Headmaster flicked forwards towards a section in the middle of the volume and then pointed at another section on the page. Lacerta looked at it. It was her name and next to it was a glowing and foreboding _Gryffindor. _It gave her shudders to even think about it.

"You can never erase that, write over it, rip it out and try to replace it – not that you would be allowed to deface it..."

"Why not?"

The Headmaster looked as her with a little amusement, which Lacerta found a little patronising, "It's a historically important item, passed down from the ages of the Founders and it would be illegal to vandalise it, also it is an important asset to Hogwarts' extensive history."

"If it's so important, why do you have it?"

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow before chuckling, "I have to check everything is in order before I give it to the Governors to review, of course, everything is usually in order."

"Oh."

"Everything is magically binding. You cannot change that you are in Gryffindor," the Headmaster said, "You can revolt against it, pretend that you're not a Gryffindor but the records will always go against you. The Hat will always go against you."

Lacerta felt a little disappointed. Devastated. Determined. She might be a little first-year but she demanded to be heard. She couldn't accept that she was in Gryffindor. She shouldn't either because it was a mix-up. She was _cunning _enough to be in Slytherin. She just needed to prove it. She wasn't going to let the judgement of a mere Hat (and she could say that the Hat was biased, it was _Godric Gryffindor's _Hat after all!)

As Dumbledore was leading her out of his office there was one thing bothering Lacerta. She was tempted to ask how the Book of Records was so small, seeing as _every _Sorting since the Founders' time had been recorded in the same book, but - …

"This book is bigger than it looks. I can feel the number of pages if I thumbed them thoroughly but if I flicked through it, decades pass my fingertips with a mere glance. This book was the work of Rowena Ravenclaw, who had the gift of creating spells. It's such a shame, though, as she told no one of the secret of this book. Alas! It is one of life's many secrets..." Dumbledore tailed off his answer with a reminiscent look that made his blue eyes twinkle.

"Oh."

"Now, I'm sure Minerva will not be amused by your lateness for your first lesson, but that cannot be helped. I hope I will not see you in here soon, Miss Malfoy."

He closed the door to his office, leaving Lacerta standing there, wondering what point the Headmaster was trying to make?

Stay out of trouble? Not likely. Lacerta wanted to scream her point from the tallest tower.

Stay in Gryffindor? No chance.

"I think you're looking for, stop being a heinous cow," a voice floated towards her from the direction of the gargoyle that was taking her down from Dumbledore's office.

Lacerta snickered. She could consider that an opinion. _'Could'_ being the operative word.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat at the Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall on a particularly bleak Friday, trying to comprehend what had happened around her. Food dribbled from invisible beams of wood where Hermione suspected a ceiling was. As the Hogwarts ceiling was enchanted to mirror the weather, it was an odd sight to see tomato ketchup raindrops from the grey sky.<p>

Lacerta, Hermione was quick to note, had done it now.

On Monday, Hermione was sure that Lacerta had learnt her lesson as she arrived late into her Transfiguration lesson (far later than Harry and Ron at least, who were at least ten minutes late to the lesson) and explained that she had just been in Dumbledore's office – a subject which spread through the school like wildfire, as by lunch, everyone was aware that Lacerta Malfoy had spoken directly to the Headmaster to complain about her placing – and that was the reason she was late for the lesson.

That first day, Lacerta neither ate nor slept with the Gryffindors. She could not be found in the Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall or the Gryffindor Common Room, and it was discovered on the second day that she had slept in the library and was close to collapse as she hadn't eaten all day. After spending the day in the Hospital Wing, she returned with Percy Weasley as her escort to and from her timetabled classes, promptly to the Gryffindor Table, back to classes, to the library, to the Gryffindor Table for dinner before being dragged to the Gryffindor Common Room, where Percy Weasley managed to keep her in until morning.

Hermione heard Ronald complaining on Thursday morning at the Gryffindor Table, telling Harry of the injustice that his older brother was being put through in order to keep a Malfoy in line. Ronald caught sight of Hermione before pompously throwing his nose in the air and informing Harry that, "If her father wasn't a Governor, she would have been expelled already."

Hermione could almost agree with that. Lacerta paraded around the school without a school tie, to show that she was definitely not going to accept being a Gryffindor. Ron had walked around, in a similar fashion, with his shirt untucked and had two points taken off Gryffindor by Professor McGonagall – the same Professor who hadn't batted an eyelid when Lacerta arrived to her classroom without her school tie.

Ronald's rant went on for several minutes until he saw Lacerta walk towards Gryffindor table with a little smirk, directed at him of course, with Percy in tow. Percy looked positively pale with dark rings around his eyes. Hermione knew the signs. He was exhausted.

It was then when Hermione realised that what everyone said about Lacerta was true. She was a conniving spoilt child who wanted what she couldn't have. Everything before was a front to make a good impression. Hermione was finally seeing her true colours. Hermione felt a little cheated that it had come down to this as she had spent the week trying to reassure people that Lacerta Malfoy was _not a bad person_. For the first time, everyone else was right and Hermione was wrong.

Lacerta had decided to take a seat opposite Hermione that morning and Percy took a seat beside her.

"Eat." The word came out like a snarl from Percy.

"I'm much too tired to reach for it," Lacerta said sweetly. Hermione's gaze flickered up from her book she was reading and looked at Lacerta. Her rosy cheeks did not hint at any fatigue.

"Maybe if you didn't try to escape Gryffindor Tower so much, you wouldn't be so tired."

"No one asked you to listen to those old bats anyway."

Hermione snapped her book shut which gave a loud sound and it caught Lacerta's attention.

"No one asked you to stay," Hermione said with a sharp edge to her tone. "If you're so unhappy here, then leave, no one is stopping you anymore." Hermione wanted to know that Lacerta had lost her last rapport, loud and clear.

Hermione stood up, not facing Lacerta directly and saying in a shaky voice, "I can act like you haven't disrespected me by calling me offensive names but I can't sit here and let you insult everyone else, especially Percy, who has done nothing but to make sure that you're safe and healthy, well-fed and well-rested." Hermione caught hold Lacerta's half-glare. "I also think you're being very stupid. No one cares about who your parents are, for the majority of people here, they're here for themselves not their parents. Muggleborns especially. Do you know how hard it is for Muggleborns to drop everything they had to transfer from their world into yours?"

Hermione paused a little and when she had seen Lacerta make no attempt to answer, she continued. "I had friends, all of whom I can no longer speak to because I may reveal I'm a witch. My family will second-guess me, thinking I've put a spell on them all the time. My beliefs are all gone, warped into new beliefs about this world. If that makes me disgusting to be around then I'm sorry for that."

People had started to stare at her. That didn't deter Hermione, though, as she wanted to make her point loud and clear. "To be honest, I'm proud to be a Mudblood, because compared to you, I'm a braver person. In the past few months, I've had to go through more things than you ever had in your Malfoy lifetime."

With that, Hermione swanned off.

She made no attempt to look at Lacerta for the rest of the day. Lacerta seemed to return the favour and kept out of Hermione's way and Hermione hoped that Lacerta would keep it that way. When Lacerta retired to the dormitory, Hermione didn't even acknowledge her, to show that she stood by what she had said earlier that morning. Hermione continued reading her book and silently wished that Parvati, Lavender and Cheryl would hurry up and return to relieve the awkward tension in the dormitory. She frowned a little. She didn't have to wish that. She shouldn't have to wish it. If anything, Lacerta was the one that should be silently wishing for a distraction.

"If things were different we could be good friends."

It had been said so quietly, in a whisper, that Hermione thought she had imagined it.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione realised that she had definitely heard what had been Lacerta's grovelling. Hermione didn't look up at her and tried to act nonchalant as she turned a page in her book, "If you had been Sorted into Slytherin, I doubt we would have been good friends. You love your brother too much."

"That doesn't mean we couldn't be friends."

"It's the reason we're not friends at the moment, isn't it?"

There was a sound that Hermione assumed was the choking noise one made when they tried to think of something to say but couldn't.

"Forget it, Lacerta, it's not like you would have made a good friend anyway. You're far too prejudiced for my liking."

"That's a little Malfoy-like to think, isn't it?"

Hermione chuckled, "No, it's what other people think of Malfoys. It's the normal opinion."

Lacerta chuckled back in return. It was a soft sound although slightly restrained, as if she was afraid to let loose and shed her bravado. Hermione almost snorted at that thought. Of course, Lacerta had no bravado. She was manipulative to the core. There was a swish of fabric and Hermione looked up at last to see Lacerta had closed her bed curtains.

"The Hat wanted me to be Sorted into Ravenclaw, you know," Hermione said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could even think about them. She looked away from Lacerta's bed and straight to her book, her face flushing with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to tell anyone that. Especially Lacerta Malfoy.

"Why are you telling me that?"

_Why_ had she? Hermione made a mental note to positively glue her mouth together to avoid the situation again.

"I don't know why, I just thought that there are times when I think that the Hat should have Sorted me into Ravenclaw because sometimes I don't feel like I fit in Gryffindor but then there are times when I'm proud to be a Gryffindor," Hermione answered, trying to think of something immediately.

"People only like you because you get us Housepoints in lessons."

Hermione flinched. That had been particularly mean.

"People only like you because your father is a Governor. If they didn't they'd face expulsion."

Hermione only realised two seconds later that she had said what she had been thinking. Hermione muttered a very humble, "Sorry."

There was no response to that.

Until that Friday morning.

Hermione had woken up especially late and her uniform had been scattered across the dormitory, the handiwork of a disconcerted Malfoy, no doubt.

By the time that Hermione had retrieved her Gryffindor tie, which had been hung from the hanging candelabra of the bathroom that led from her dormitory, she was already running late for breakfast.

And she stumbled on the middle of the biggest food fight that she imagined possible.

It was an impressive sight to see as about two hundred students, regardless of House or year, had united in free-for-all and was quickly going through the mass of food that they would have eaten.

She was quickly pushed aside by a seething Filch, the caretaker, who led Professor Dumbledore into the fray. Hermione took a frightened step back from the intimidating Headmaster. The Headmaster seemed to glide past Hermione as if she hadn't been standing right there. He pressed a rather old-looking wand against his chin and spoke, in a slow but calming voice.

"Stop."

Everyone dropped what he or she was holding and stared at the Headmaster. Some went pale with fear.

"Who started this?"

Fingers pointed across the room to several culprits. Many of them pointed at the Weasley twins who were pointing at opposite ends of the room. Seeing that most hands had pointed at them, they dropped their arms and said simultaneously, "What? It wasn't us! We wish it was though!"

"It was me," a loud voice said and someone pushed past two heavyset seventh years closest to the large doors.

Hermione didn't find it much of a surprise to find Lacerta Malfoy, drenched in what looked like a Full English Breakfast, confessing to starting the food fight. Hermione resisted the urge to stifle a giggle as her hair looked bright orange from the mixture of pumpkin juice and tomato ketchup in her hair. The rest of her didn't bode well as she looked as if she had jaundice from the egg yolk dying her skin, and this contrasted to her flaming coloured hair.

The Headmaster sighed beside Hermione and stared at Lacerta. Hermione wondered what thoughts were passing through his mind. It was most likely what to punish Lacerta with. Menial punishments? They would be too lenient on her and food fights would sprout weekly. Expulsion? Hermione knew that was too harsh for a mere food fight.

"My office, Miss Malfoy, you know where it is."

Lacerta shrugged indifferently and stepped forward. She walked towards Hermione and stopped just beside her.

"I'm sorry you got delayed. You would have had so much fun," Lacerta whispered, before sauntering off. Her hair swished side to side and a few beans slid down her orange hair.

Hermione frowned. Of course she had been delayed, seeing as Lacerta had purposefully hidden all of her uniform. Most of it had been replaceable from the spares in her trunk, but it had taken a long time to find her only tie.

"Two hundred points will be taken from each House for this mess and an additional fifty from Gryffindor and Slytherin for being the major factors in the fight starting," The Headmaster said, his voice ricocheted off the walls and everyone was hit with the realisation of what they had done.

There was a loud uproar as the gems from the giant hourglasses flew up immediately. As it was only the first week of term, there weren't many Housepoints in the hourglasses so each one went into negative figures, particularly the Gryffindor and Slytherin hourglasses. Hermione could see from the corner of her eye that the Slytherins looked furious, then again, Hermione was furious too. She knew how many points she had earned for Gryffindor, all of which may as well have been to no avail.

The Headmaster waved his wand and suddenly everyone was equipped with a mop, a bucket of soapy water and a brush.

"You will clean this Hall without magic, after it is cleaned, lessons will resume as they would have normally. The longer you take to clean this Hall, the longer your school day will be," The Headmaster said in a voice that resonated with authority. Hermione shuddered at being so close to it. Others stared at him silently as if absorbing the punishment they were given.

When the grumbles had subsided and the students had started to clean, the Headmaster turned to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, I hope you have a nice morning," he smiled before walking off with a small bounce in his steps.

Hermione shuddered again. The change in the Headmaster's voice frightened her slightly. She didn't know how someone could be as changeable as he could be. On occasion, he was aloof and almost unapproachable, and then he was kind and had a magnetic energy that drew you in to his warmth. Then, as Hermione witnessed, he had some kind of power that hypnotised people and the power controlled your thoughts and emotions.

No one told him where to go. Hermione knew that in Muggle schools, had someone been given this kind of punishment, they would have laughed in the Headmaster's face and possibly continued to throw food at each other.

Not this Headmaster. Hermione bit the side of her cheek. Then again, not many Headmasters fought Dark Wizards and confined them to prisons. Not many Headmasters managed to make one of the Darkest Lords of the century afraid by his mere presence. Even if every student in the Great Hall protested, chances were that the Headmaster would silence them with a concoction of simple spells.

So, Hermione took it as a compliment that the Headmaster had decided to relieve her of a punishment and had wished her a nice morning.

However, Hermione did not have a nice breakfast as there was nothing to eat from. She didn't have much of an appetite as she sat at the Gryffindor Table being one of the few that didn't have a punishment. Any other person that didn't have a punishment were somewhere in Hogwarts, waiting for lessons to formally start. She gained stares as she sat musing at the Gryffindor Table, staring at the grey sky outside of the giant windows. The stares didn't bother her though.

Mainly because something else was bothering her.

Lacerta had deliberately hidden her clothing. That was a given. She had said so herself. It was lucky actually, seeing as Hermione would be punished to clean the Great Hall along with many of her peers.

_I'm sorry you got delayed. You would have had so much fun._

Of course, for Lacerta, punishment seemed like _so much fun_. That was why she was continually getting herself into trouble. Thank goodness Hermione had managed to get herself out of that trouble by insulting Lacerta.

Hermione's attention was fleetingly taken away from Lacerta and onto Draco Malfoy whose hair was drenched in some kind of brown sauce or beverage. Judging by the irritated look that was on his face, he obviously had been one of those bystanders who had been caught in the act of throwing food only once and also had been punished. Hermione was a little surprised to find that Lacerta hadn't warned her brother from the food fight and told him to leave. Then again, she had probably done it on the spur of the moment.

Hermione couldn't shrug off what Lacerta had said to her. _I'm sorry you got delayed. You would have had so much fun. _It was like Lacerta knew that it was going to happen, but if she did...

Hermione almost slapped herself for not realising it earlier. Lacerta had deliberately delayed her. Hiding her uniform hadn't been an act of malevolence; actually, it was more of the opposite. She had been trying to buy Hermione time. After all, she must have known that Hermione had spares of all of her uniform in her trunk, which was why her single school tie was hidden in the hardest place of them all.

_But why?_ Hermione thought to herself. She hadn't been nice to Lacerta at all. In fact, she had been as horrible as any other person.

_If things were different we could be good friends._

Hermione couldn't believe the facts that were staring at her. Lacerta thought of her as a friend. At least, a good enough friend to save from punishment. Hermione had been stupid enough to let herself take the opinion of everyone else. Hermione groaned and stood up with a plan. She needed to speak to Lacerta at least, to apologise.

This plan led her straight to the Weasley twins who were scrubbing away diligently.

"Do you know where the Headmaster's office is?" Hermione asked a little breathlessly. She didn't know why she felt so out-of-breath. It was probably the wracking guilt in her that was causing her some kind of breathlessness. She _did _blame herself, in a way. She should have made Lacerta feel more welcome.

Hermione remembered what she had said to Harry about people not making him feel welcome. Hermione knew what it was like not to feel welcome. The back of her neck prickled as she remembered -

_No. It's the past now. I do not want to think about it anymore. _

"Why do you think that we would know?" the twins said at the same time as they turned their heads to face her. Both of them also raised an eyebrow in scepticism.

"I heard that the Weasleys twins are legends in the area of troublemaking and mischief, so much so, I can barely believe you're the older brother of Ronald," Hermione said with a grin. They knew she was being flattering and the twin's sceptical looks only deepened in her futile attempt.

"You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?" one of the twins asked, pointing a wet brush at her.

"You're that clever one that Ronnikins complains about, aren't you?"

"The one who gains all the Housepoints - ..."

"Ronnikins must be out of his mind, complaining about someone who always earns points - ..."

"Yes, but when has Ronnikins been in his right mind?"

"There's that... but he _is_ best mates with Harry Potter at the current moment..."

"Then he must be out of his mind too..."

"Excuse me?" Hermione drew their attention back to her. Their mouths closed but the frowns that grew on their face suggested that they hadn't quite finished their conversation. Hermione tapped her foot against the stone floor impatiently. She didn't really want to waste time. She was sure that Lacerta was going to be expelled at least. Hermione needed to speak to her, even if it was the last time she would.

"Oh, Dumbledore's office," one of them said returning to Hermione's question, "the thing is, it changes every year."

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow furrowing.

"Come off it," they said at the same time. One of them continued to say, "You did say that we were legends in the area of troublemaking and mischief."

Hermione didn't say anything. She had said that.

"So, our journeys to Dumbledore's office aren't really few in number but we've noticed that it moves places every year. Never the same place consecutive years."

"Never," the other twin emphasised.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you know or don't you?"

One of them looked at the other and sighed, "Are we legends or not?"

"I don't know. Are we?"

They turned to Hermione with grins. They wanted more praise. Hermione sighed.

"Yes."

"Fifth floor. Past the portrait of the Troll with the candle."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. With that, she ran off in her haste.

* * *

><p>"Why did you do it?"<p>

Lacerta pulled a face as if to say, _I don't know_.

The Headmaster shook his head and sighed before firecalling Lacerta's Head of House, a most displeased Professor McGonagall. He then gave her a look as if to tell her that he was fully aware of the reason that she had done it.

Lacerta rolled her eyes. _Of course he knew. He knew before he even asked. _

Lacerta hadn't expected it to go so well. In fact, it had escalated faster than she had expected. All she needed to do was to pick a fight with the Banks boy that had picked on her during the Sorting. It had been as easy as ordering a house-elf. He lapped up the provocation and started a shouting match. Lacerta only grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice and decided that she would push the shouting match to a new level. She soaked him. She also enjoyed doing so, despite herself.

Of course, his natural reaction was to grab bacon from that plate on the nearest table and hurl it at Lacerta. Lacerta, being Lacerta, ducked. That simple reflex was the catalyst to the ensuing food fight in the Great Hall. People became victims of flying food and Lacerta managed to stand back and observe her handiwork (despite being the victim of many throws gone awry). She watched as her brother became collateral damage and as he picked up something to throw back.

Although Lacerta needed to pay attention to the flying foods, she also kept her attention partly to the doors of the Great Hall for Hermione Granger. Just as she had expected, the food fight had escalated to a point where the Headmaster was going to have to make an appearance.

And he did. Thankfully, seconds after Hermione so that she wouldn't be dragged into the food fight.

Lacerta frowned a little as she sat in the seat opposite the Headmasters. She didn't know why she cared so much for the frizzy-haired Muggle-born. She was obviously of an inferior birth to Lacerta but she was the only person that Lacerta could say that she trusted beyond anyone else. True, Hermione was borderline obsessive and incredibly annoying but Lacerta had heard snippets of what she had said about her. During the first half of the week, she was complimentary more than anything.

That was before she exploded at Lacerta. Lacerta spent that whole day mulling over what Hermione had said. It wasn't so much Hermione hinting that, she too, wanted Lacerta to leave that kept her mind on it. It was the other things that Hermione had said that made Lacerta think that the silly prejudice that her father had for Muggleborns was...well, stupid. Hermione was _brave _and seemed to embody the House more than the likes of pureblooded Wizards could (and something could be said about her mane of hair that could be likened that to a lions).

Hermione made her point. But Lacerta had made her bed and she needed to lie in it.

She spent all night thinking over Hermione's random revelation. Hermione had moments where she thought that she couldn't belong in Gryffindor and rather in the House that had been suggested to her, Ravenclaw. Lacerta had thought that Hermione had learnt to accept her placing – probably because she didn't know the implications of each House, but she was naturally intelligent, unlike Lacerta's forced knowledge – where Lacerta could not.

A combination of Hermione's words, Lacerta's unease and Lavender's incessant snoring made Lacerta stay awake the entire night.

That did make it easier for Lacerta to walk around her dormitory in the dead of night, though, and hide the girl's clothing. It had been amusing to throw the Gryffindor tie that Lacerta didn't wear onto the candelabra of the toilets in the girls' dormitory (and this idea alone made Lacerta wish she could have seen Hermione attempt to retrieve it). The rest of the uniform was easily scattered around the room. A sock there, a skirt on one of Cheryl's bedposts and the job was done. Lacerta gave herself a pat on the back for effort, at least. Still, Lacerta would have liked to see Hermione's face as she realised that her uniform was all over the place. That alone would cheer up her mood.

The entrance of her Head of House disrupted her thoughts.

If truth be told, Lacerta knew it was fair to say that she looked as pleased as someone who was going to be eaten alive by a sphinx.

* * *

><p>Hermione paced.<p>

It had been entirely too long. Lacerta had been there for too long. She was probably going to be expelled. Hermione was sure of it.

Of course, the twins had been right about the location of Dumbledore's office. It _was _past the portrait of the Troll with the candle. What they failed to mention was the staircase leading up to some hidden floor that had a trick step. Hermione spent the best part of ten minutes trying to free her foot.

_Those jokers_, Hermione thought to herself. With every step she made with her right foot, her ankle twinged with the flinch of pain. She winced but that was the least of her worries.

She needed to get past the gargoyle blocking the entrance to the elusive Headmaster's office. Professor McGonagall had muttered something to the gargoyle and it had stepped aside and taken her up. Afraid, Hermione had hidden behind a column and hoped to sneak up.

The gargoyle remained stone and speaking to it was literally like speaking to a stone wall. Hermione could swear that she had seen the gargoyle smirk or wink, and that she had heard a splutter. She frowned at the frozen figurine. She shook her head. It wasn't logical. She continued pacing. Continued wondering about the gargoyle.

There was a huffing noise.

The noise had come out of nowhere. For a second, Hermione thought that it was the gargoyle, because it looked like it was the only thing that would have been able to have spoken, had it been alive. Then again, it was still stone. There was no _logic _behind the magic that swelled around the school.

"What made you think that this school was logical?"

Again, Hermione's gaze snapped towards the gargoyle. _If_ it had been the gargoyle... Hermione shook her head. There was no point thinking about it. The voice was right, as there was nothing in this school that was logical.

There was nothing logical about why Lacerta would take such steps to make sure that Hermione was one of the few that were left unpunished.

There was a sound, of stone grinding stone and Hermione looked at the gargoyle. It was moving, and a few seconds later, Professor McGonagall emerged with a grim expression. Then, Lacerta hopped out with an even grimmer expression.

Hermione walked towards Lacerta and stared up at her.

"Why did you do it?"

A nonchalant expression. "Do what?" A nonchalant tone.

Hermione made a noise. She hadn't expected Lacerta to answer. It was foolish to think that she would have. "So are you leaving now? Have you gotten your wish?"

There was a little flinch but Lacerta recovered from it quickly, "I've been placed in solitary confinement for three days starting tomorrow."

"Shame," Hermione said, a little hurt from Lacerta's coolness of tone and matter-of-factness.

She turned on her heel and strode away. Guilt mounted in her for doing so but she pushed those feelings aside. She couldn't help the familiar warm feeling in her face and neck. She was embarrassed. She had gone searching for something that was never there. Ashamed, Hermione kept walking. When her left foot became trapped in the trick step, she yanked it out, not feeling any pain until much later when she no longer felt so flustered.

* * *

><p>"Mr Malfoy."<p>

"Yes, sir." The response was brittle. Broken. Severus didn't expect anything more. The boy had spent hours and hours complaining with his unbroken voice of the injustice done to him. Typical Malfoy. They expected anything they couldn't have, as even Lucius, expected Severus to be a volunteer babysitter to his children. The boy, sat on the extreme left of him, his face drawn into a frown as he glared across the classroom.

It was such a relief to not hear his whining drivel for once.

"Miss Malfoy."

"Yes, sir." The voice that responded was also brittle. It wasn't brittle in the same way her brother's – it was an act. The girl was merely trying to emulate the tone and inflection of her twin to sound as if she was upset too. However, she sat, straight, her face poised and facing the front as if she was aware that she was on the receiving end of a glare.

Miss Granger, who was sat next to her, looked equally as poised. She wasn't the chatterbox child that the other professors at the school had made her out to be.

Severus continued to call out names on his register. He reached the name that he had been most...anxious to call out. He had probably awaited this response the most in his life. He had waited for this particular moment.

_Would his voice echo in his mind, with the same tone and honesty as...?_ Severus gathered himself, twisted his mouth into a smirk and carried on.

"Mr Potter," Severus paused, his quill raised over the box next to the brat's name. A small dot of ink fell from the tip of his quill. "Our. New. Celebrity."

Each word felt like a piece of chewed cardboard in Severus' mouth. The fact that the words managed to cause a few snickers was more than enough to alleviate the foul taste.

"Yes, _sir_." The voice was arrogant with a James Potter air that Severus had detested since he had the misfortune to hear and recognise it. Snape smirked. Like father, like bloody son.

_Except for the eyes, _Lily's _eyes._

Severus waited for the snickering to die down before he continued with his register.

He closed his book with a snap and stared across the classroom. They were staring at him with some sort of dumbfound expectation.

Severus sighed internally.

"Potions is not the flimsy wand-waving, magical incantation subject that many of you perceive magic to be. It is an exact art, a subtle science that requires an appreciation and an unwavering skill to achieve."

Each student stared at him. Including Potter, whose eyebrows were knitted together, just like his lecherous father's would have.

"I can teach you to produce substances that can ensnare the senses, produce lotions to change your appearance... I have potions that can reveal your deepest and darkest desires... You see, this is usually the class that separates the geniuses from the complete _dunderheads_."

Severus swept his gaze across the classroom. Draco Malfoy had stopped glaring at his sister and had raised an eyebrow. Hermione Granger sat, perched with a sharp look in her face. Lacerta Malfoy looked bored. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle looked as gormless as ever.

Potter and Weasley were muttering under their breaths.

"Potter!" Severus said suddenly.

_Let's see if he's inherited the conceited brain of his father as well..._

"What would you get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The boy stared at him and his eyebrows knitted together...Severus almost skipped a beat as he recognised the furrow.

"I don't know, sir."

The illusion had been broken and Severus began to get irritated.

"Clearly, fame isn't everything. Tell me, where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

On the left of him, he could hear from audible laughs. Potter reddened in front of him.

"I don't know," he whispered.

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Why don't you ask Hermione?" a voice called out to him.

Severus moved his gaze from Potter, who hadn't spoken, towards the front of the classroom. Lacerta Malfoy was staring at him with a pale face. Her grey-eyed glare seemed to have more impact than Draco's had.

Hermione Granger's hand fell limply to her side as it drew attention from Severus.

"Excuse me?"

Silence collapsed on the room as the entire class stared at Lacerta, slightly open-mouthed. The loyal Slytherins were staring at her with disgust, shock and of course, Draco was looking at her with some sort of betrayal.

"Hermione knows the answer, why don't you ask her? Why just Harry?"

"Are you criticising my teaching methods, Miss Malfoy?" Severus asked.

Her mouth closed and she was silenced.

"Well, Miss _Granger_, where would I find a bezoar?"

The girl blushed violently and looked at the desk in front of her, "S-Stomach of a goat, sir."

Severus was slightly impressed. Only slightly. "Correct. Do you happen to know the answer to the first question?"

"Draught of Living Death, sir."

"Also correct. Can you also tell me the whereabouts of Miss Malfoy's tie?"

This time, the girl made a choking sound and closed her mouth.

"Perhaps, Miss Malfoy can answer that herself," Severus turned to Lacerta and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't wear it." The answer was curt.

"Uniform is a school rule. Not wearing the school uniform correctly is against school rules, Miss Malfoy. Two points from Gryffindor."

Lacerta Malfoy shrugged. There was almost a sly smile on her face too.

Severus had heard of this girl's one-person power struggle against her Head of House and the Headmaster. Where all the Gryffindors around her glared and groaned, she didn't seem to care. Severus cared, though, as she was making it more obvious that she didn't care much for her given House and that in turn, affected Slytherin.

_Never, in the seven years of being Head of House have the housepoints for my House gone into negative values. _

If a week ago, someone had suggested that the beloved daughter of the Malfoy family would be Sorted into Gryffindor then Severus would have smirked and asked them if they had had too much to drink. Despite her nonchalance at having housepoints taken, Severus would now probably say to that person that he believed them through and through. Her sudden defence for someone else in her House proved that, she would recklessly protect someone else. If she was a Slytherin, she would not have drawn attention to herself and stepped around the situation.

_The fact you attracted my attention, makes you more of a Gryffindor than you probably believe._

The next sentence almost killed Severus to say. "One from Slytherin too. Draco, you should have made your sister aware of the rules."

Draco was glaring at him, and Severus was almost reminded of Lucius. The faint smile that had been on Lacerta's face had been wiped off almost instantaneously.

"But, sir, this has nothing to do with Draco - ..."

Again, she was recklessly throwing herself into his attention.

"Miss Malfoy are you criticising my teaching methods once again?"

"This time, I am."

"Go and stand outside this classroom, Miss Malfoy. I will have a word with you in a moment."

Again, silence fell around the classroom and everyone stared as Lacerta scraped her stool backwards and flounced out of the classroom. Severus wasn't as furious as his students thought he was. Like Lacerta, everything was an act.

Lucius had entrusted his children into Severus' temporary care. Severus needed to act as a temporary guardian.

With that, he left the class with a series of simple instructions on the board and told them to complete the Potion. It was a simple enough Potion to leave them to do unsupervised, as it would take a complete _troll_ to mess up.

Then again, Longbottom was infamous already for being rather bothersome. In spite of that, Severus would stay optimistic about the boy. For now.

Once out of the classroom, he muttered a quiet, "Follow me." to the girl waiting for him outside. She swept past her and started walking further into the dungeons.

"Professor Snape, it's unfair that you've taken points off Slytherin as they've done nothing wrong, plus, you're already in negative figures -..."

"No thanks to you."

"I know, but - ..."

Severus rounded a corner and the girl could barely keep up.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Severus hissed, "You're not only letting your House down, I don't think that your mother would be extremely happy either."

"I'm doing this _for _my mother."

"Narcissa is not the fickle type to care about which House you are in, as long as you are in a House."

"I'm also doing this for Draco."

"If you spoke to the boy, I doubt that he would mind either," Snape sighed. _Maybe if you spoke to him, he would stop bothering me and I can have some peace of mind._

Severus turned another corner. Another. A twist in the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Lacerta finally asked.

"You should know, it's the place where you've only wanted to get to this entire week."

The girl whispered, "I feel a bit dizzy."

_Of course, only a Slytherin could navigate their way through these twisted tunnels. You should know that, Lacerta._

Severus stopped at a straight stretch of corridor and looked at Lacerta, who had gone a little green.

"Some point along this wall is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, find it."

Lacerta looked a little confused and Severus knew why. He could see the faded coiled snake on the wall that marked the mysterious entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. She couldn't.

"Here."

Lacerta was off by at least five feet. Snape strode past her and stood under the marking of the snake. "Here."

She looked at him shrewdly, "How do I know you're not lying?"

At that precise moment, the wall opened and a seventh-year who was probably on a free period stepped out.

"Professor Snape."

Severus nodded curtly and moved aside so the seventh-year could move.

As soon as she had gone, Snape turned to Lacerta and said, "Those who have been Sorted into Slytherin can see the snake on the wall that shows where the entrance is. Every house has its unique protection. The Fat Lady doesn't respond to anyone who isn't a true Gryffindor and sometimes walks out of her Portrait when a non-Gryffindor is around. Those in Ravenclaw are the only ones that possess enough logic and wisdom to be able to enter their Common Room. As for Hufflepuff, the magic of Hogwarts bends around you to guide you to their Common Room. The fact that you can't see the entrance, like I have been able to since I came here, shows that you do not belong in Slytherin and the Sorting Hat did not place you in the wrong House."

"I kind of gathered that when I felt dizzy before," Lacerta said quietly. "Mother and Father never spoke of feeling dizzy when they walked to their Common Room."

"Then, Miss Malfoy, think about that fact when you're in your solitary confinement and I hope that the next time I see you, I don't have to take points from you."

She nodded.

_I don't care if I get hell for this, but at least I'm doing the right thing for the girl._

_If you could see this, would _you_ be proud of me? _

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

Hermione lifted her head from the desk. She had finished her potion five minutes ago and had attained the colour that Professor Snape had indicated it would be on the board. As a result, she just put her head on the desk and waited for the Professor to return without attracting attention.

"For?"

"I hid your uniform so you didn't get into trouble. I'm sorry for acting like a self-righteous pompous brat all week, and I would like your forgiveness." She said this in a rather rushed voice.

"Okay, then I forgive you."

"I would also like to be your friend."

"Only if you don't throw dinner at me," Hermione beamed.

* * *

><p><em>Cheryl is another OC, please be generally open-minded. <em>

_Who else has Pottermore? I finished the entire first story on Sunday, haha (I should have been doing this, but it's awesome). If you don't have it and you like Harry Potter, you know what to do in October. Btw, I was Sorted into Ravenclaw which I love, I mean, I wasn't going to throw a Lacerta tantrum because I can't have what I want. _

_I digress, _

_Becky x  
><em>


	4. Interlude I

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling. **

_Really short chapter, I know, but this is sort of a filler chapter to kind of get to know what happens behind-the-scenes without too much description/dialogue. _

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Friday 6TH September, 1991.<em>

Dear Father,

Everything has gone _wrong_! Lacie has been Sorted into Gryffindor! She hasn't spoken to me once since she has been Sorted into that House, Father, you need to help sort this out. Lacie seems to have tried everything but Dumbledore is trying his best to go against our best wishes. When Lacie wouldn't eat he made a _Weasley _follow her and force her to eat and watch over her and make her go to the Gryffindor Common Room and none of the teachers (except for Uncle Snape) punish her for not wearing the Gryffindor uniform. It's indecent! Lacie started a food fight today and all they gave her was solitary confinement for three days! They didn't expel her!

To make it worse, in Potions, Lacie PROTECTED Potter and fought on his behalf. Well, she kind of did the same for me, but that's irrelevant because she's getting closer to Potter and that blood traitor Weasley, and not to mention she spent the whole day with a Mudblood!_ Father_, she is being BRAINWASHED and only you can help her. If you don't, we'll lose her, like Mother lost Sirius Black from the family.

Your loving son,

Draco.

* * *

><p><em>Saturday 7TH September, 1991.<em>

Draco,

I am proud of your notification. You have pleased me in a place where your sister has not. Do not fret, as I will not allow anything of the sort to carry on further. I knew Dumbledore had been up to something. This must be it.

Father.

* * *

><p>"It feels so good to be out of solitary confinement," Lacerta stretched on their way down. Hermione looked at Lacerta to see if there were any visible changes. Aside from the fact that she had a healthier, happier glow to her, there was nothing to show that she was seriously ill from being confined in a room for three days.<p>

"What was it like?" Hermione asked. Hermione had heard of it, but she didn't know of the magical Hogwarts version of it.

"It was like sitting in my own room for three days and two nights just thinking about what I had done. Sometimes the walls would talk to me and try to tell me where I had gone wrong, because they know everything."

"The _walls _spoke to you?" Hermione asked incredulously. Lacerta nodded. She pulled Hermione to one side of the corridor and pressed her ear against the wall.

"Normally you can't hear them, because there's so much commotion going around the school, but when you're in that room, if they want to talk to you, you can hear it loud and clear," Lacerta whispered.

_She is mad, _Hermione thought to herself with a smile. She humoured Lacerta and also pressed her ear towards the wall.

All she could hear was silence.

"Lace - ..."

Lacerta made a shushing motion and continued to listen.

Then there was a murmur from the direction of the stone wall.

Hermione's eyes widened and Lacerta smiled smugly at Hermione. Lacerta then grabbed Hermione by the arm and started to drag her away from the wall.

"What do you think that was?"

Lacerta shrugged, "I don't know." A pause before something flashed across her face. "Then again, maybe the Founders imbued some of their spirit into the school when they died and every Headmaster or Teacher does so when they die. It's like having a ghost all the time but they're in the walls."

Hermione could accept that explanation, despite how far-fetched it sounded. She did know that she was going to have to research the subject in Hogwarts' extensive library. She may even have to peruse _Hogwarts_: _A History_ one more time.

"_Draco!_"

The cry had been heart-wrenching to hear and Hermione felt Lacerta yank herself away from her. She looked up and saw Lacerta make a beeline for Draco, who was making a beeline for the dungeons. At last, Lacerta managed to catch up with him and the pair exchanged words. From what Hermione could tell, Draco was acting like a brick wall and unresponsive, whilst Lacerta was pulling on him, pleading almost with him. He pulled himself away from Lacerta and with one last glare at Hermione he stormed off. Lacerta stepped back, as if she was being pushed and the stopped.

Hermione took that as a hint that she was needed. She walked down the stairs towards Lacerta who was staring aimlessly in the direction where Draco had just walked away.

Was it _that_ much of an offence, to be caught linking with a _Mudblood_? Was it wrong for Lacerta to finally be wearing a _Gryffindor_ tie?

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked tentatively. She didn't want to be on Lacerta's bad side so early in the morning and she did have quite the temper.

There was a sniff and a nod. Lacerta took Hermione by the arm and said with a wide smile, "Let's go to breakfast!"

She had said it with enough brightness that she would have brightened the Great Hall. However, Hermione knew that it was a forced brightness and underneath it was an impenetrable sadness. She continued to smile, despite the glares from everyone in the Great Hall. She sat at the Gryffindor Table and helped herself heartily to breakfast.

Hermione sat beside her, watching her. Was she really alright or was she merely faking it? She was responding to small-talk but with short and brief answers. It made Hermione wonder how much of a friend she was to Lacerta. Of course, Lacerta had suggested that they be friends but Hermione was treating her as if she was her best friend already and she didn't know anything of the girl.

_Maybe it's because you're so desperate for friends that you blur the lines of illusion and reality_, a snide voice said, _after all, who would want to be friends with the brainbox?_

Hermione pushed that voice to the deepest parts of her mind, silencing it.

"Lacerta - ..."

"Don't call me that."

Hermione closed her mouth. Had she finally said too much? Was the voice right? Lacerta had no intention of being her friend at all and she was to call her _Malfoy_?

"It's far too formal for friends, most people call me Lacie. From now on, call me Lacie," she said with a smile.

"Er...okay, Lacie." Hermione felt a wave of relief.

"Do you want me to shorten your name?" Lacie asked inquisitively.

Hermione's eyes widened and thought of all the possible nicknames that people of the past had come up with, "No, it's fine. I like my name how it is."

Lacie made a face and then she seemed to perk up with the fluttering of birds, "Owl post."

As soon as she had said it, a letter dropped in front of her. Hermione didn't dare look over at the letter and Hermione kept composed. Lacie seemed to be doing the same as she stared at the letter. Hermione didn't know why she didn't just open the letter and read what was in it. After a while, she took it and opened it shakily.

She hadn't seemed to have even read the first line before she paled and ran off with the letter in her hands.

* * *

><p><em>Saturday 7TH September, 1991.<em>

Dear Lacerta.

I hear that you have been Sorted into Gryffindor.

I am not only disappointed about this; I am also disappointed that you did not tell me sooner and left your brother to notify me instead. We could have sorted this problem out immediately, but I supposed that you decided that you could do this all by yourself. Has that worked for you yet? Of course not, you are merely an eleven-year old and no one would give you half their time if you hadn't had the Malfoy name to support yourself. Even so, I ask myself who you even are anymore. Are you _my _daughter, a Malfoy by the purest blood, or a stranger – a changeling for the daughter I should have had?

You, Lacerta, have not only disappointed me, but the _centuries _of Malfoy ancestors and _centuries_ of Malfoy descendants to come. I will come on Monday and demand that you are simply put into Slytherin seeing that you cannot convince a simple Hat to put you in your destined House. You are more than aware that you belong in Slytherin and Draco tells me that you have done next-to-nothing to try and get yourself moved. Hunger strikes? Defiant rebellion? Is that all you have? Have you never heard of the risks that the Malfoys have made in history? Have you made a risk? Have you risked expulsion? I don't think you have. You – stranger – are not the daughter I raised. I raised a child that would have fought for that place in Slytherin instead of having a Hat destroy the eleven years of cultivated purity. Did my daughter disappear the moment that the Hat touched your hair and sifted through your thoughts and deemed you fit only as a Gryffindor?

Malfoys did not dillydally and accept fate. We do not do that. We _fight_. Our family fortune isn't there because we sat around and decided not to eat. I swear, it must be the Black blood from your mother. I knew spending all that time, cooped up in the study with her was too much of a bad idea. I'm not asking you to sever ties with her, but I'm asking you to distance your thoughts from the views of _some _people in her family. I will not have my little girl end up thinking like Sirius Black. I promise you that much.

Regards,

Father.

* * *

><p><em>Saturday 7TH September, 1991.<em>

Dearest Lacie,

I send this with Athena to show it is I who is writing to you.

I saw your father send off a letter and I read the letter that Draco had written and knew exactly what he has written to you. I ask you now to ignore it. He is just a little vexed because you did not tell him sooner (which you must remember from now on!). He will not be visiting Hogwarts.

If I may be so bold, I must say that this came as a surprise to me too. However, I am proud of you, no matter what House you are Sorted in.

You are my perfect daughter, everything that I could have asked for in a daughter, and nothing will change that.

With love,

Mother.

* * *

><p><em>Tuesday 10TH September, 1991.<em>

Dear Mother,

Thank you.

Your eternal daughter,

Lacie.

* * *

><p>Draco,<p>

You started this. Do not blame me ever again.

Lacerta.

PS. Act like a child, I will treat you like a child. You ignore me, I will ignore you. _Quid pro quo,_ brother.

* * *

><p><em>This is where D&amp;L start to fight and break apart, crey. <em>

_Constructive criticism is always appreciated :)_

_Love, Becky.  
><em>


	5. They Refuse toListen,soLeave Them Alone

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, love, why do we argue like this?<br>I am tired of all your pious talk.**

**Anne Sexton from **_**A Curse Against Elegies**_

* * *

><p>Two weeks passed without Hermione noticing when an owl dropped something in front of her at breakfast. For a moment, Hermione expected a parchment envelope but to her surprise, the envelope in front of her was made of paper.<p>

"Who's sent you post?" Lacie asked over her plate. Hermione couldn't blame her for being curious. Hermione hadn't really gotten any post since being at Hogwarts as her parents didn't have owls to deliver the post to begin with. Lacie, on the other hand, wrote regularly to her mother and received an onslaught of apologetic notes from her brother (which she adamantly ignored and threw into the Common Room fire).

"My parents," Hermione muttered, reaching for the envelope. She opened it and pulled a face at its contents. A card. The musical kind. Hermione sighed and opened the card.

It started hissing and spitting immediately.

"What on _earth_ is that?" Lacie moved away from it.

Hermione was too preoccupied with removing the battery to answer and after she tore apart the wires that connected the circuit together she looked up at Lacie.

"It is normal for you to tear your post apart?" Lacie asked, moving slightly forward with an apprehensive look on her face.

"The card had a battery in it, so it would sing to me when I open it, but because magic interferes with the battery it wouldn't work properly, so, I had to take the battery out to stop it hissing at me," Hermione explained as she pieced back the remnants of her card.

Lacie stared at it before looking up at Hermione, "Why would your parents send you a singing card?"

Hermione blushed, "It was a birthday card."

"It's your birthday?" Lacie stood up with her mouth open. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you never asked," Hermione replied in a quiet voice, "and it was two days ago."

"Two days ago?" Lacie half-shouted, attracting attention from all the breakfasters in the vicinity. "Hermione, you could have said!"

"Well, we had so much homework to do, that I didn't want something so trivial as my birthday interfering with my schoolwork," Hermione muttered quickly, "Now sit down, you're making a scene."

"_I'm _making a scene," Lacie said sarcastically as she sat back down, "I thought we were friends."

"We _are."_

"_Friends_ don't neglect important details like birthdays – which, now that I mention it, mine happens to be on the fifth of June so you don't forget, not that you will – and _friends_ tell each other things like that," Lacie said, adding an extra inflection in her voice every time that she said "friends".

"But why?"

Lacie's eyes widened a little and then she pouted, "Because we're _friends_!"

"Oh." Hermione played with her breakfast a little before looking up at Lacie, who was staring at her. "What?"

"I must get you a birthday present," Lacie said immediately, "I'll have Mother send it to me."

"Oh, there's no need for that - ..."

"No need?" Lacie said, her voice raising a little, "Of course, just like there's _no need_ for you to tell me that it is your birthday – or it _was_."

"I didn't mean that - ..."

"Never mind, I'm going to write to Mother before I forget, I'll see you in Transfiguration!" With that, Lacie ran off without haste.

Hermione stood up to follow her, but Lacie was already at the doors of the Great Hall, and Hermione _knew_ that it would take forever for her to catch up. Hermione didn't know why Lacie was so annoyed with her for neglecting something so small as her birthday. It was only another day in the calendar, Hermione thought, another day where daily hassles just became more hassling as people expected more of you because you were a year older.

_Or maybe it's because you're not used to having a friend..._

Hermione frowned over her breakfast. She _was_ used to having a friend. She had plenty of friends at home. Some friends, at least. Acquaintances. Neighbours...

_...Books?_

Hermione continued to frown over her breakfast. It wasn't exactly a lie to say that she had friends but it wasn't exactly the truth. Hermione knew that the special treat of her birthday wasn't an extravagant party like the ones that she was rarely invited to, but instead a trip to the local bookshop. It made Hermione happy, to browse through the books and to possibly get a few and immerse herself in them for several hours.

The idea of friends didn't really strike Hermione as appealing until _those_ days.

Those_ days are over! There's no use reliving the past!_

Hermione pushed her plate away and grabbed the book that she had been reading before slinging her bag over her shoulder. If she didn't hurry she would be late for Transfiguration and she didn't want a similar berating that Professor McGonagall had given Harry and Ronald a week ago for being late...

"Granger!"

Hermione turned around towards the direction of the voice. To her surprise and slight disappointment, it was Malfoy.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked, readjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"Maybe if you were a little politer, I would tell you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "I'd rather not." She made a motion to turn around but was stopped by someone grabbing the strap her bag.

"What?" Hermione demanded.

"Give this to Lacie," Malfoy shoved a folded piece of parchment in Hermione's face.

"What makes you think I will?"

"I'll owe you."

Hermione pulled a face. She didn't know what it meant to have a Malfoy owing you a favour, but she knew from Lacie's pride that it was a rare thing to come across in a lifetime. She took the note from Malfoy's hand and started to turn around again. Malfoy's hand was still on her bag and he tugged on it for her attention.

"Make sure she reads it," he said with a firm voice.

"What makes you think she won't?"

Malfoy let go her bag and smirked at her, "I'm her twin. Do you honestly think I don't know what's she's thinking?"

He turned and walked off with a little strut in his step that Hermione hadn't really noticed before.

x-x-x-x-x

"'_Stop flicking like that or you'll have my eye out!' _Merlin! That dwarf couldn't get any more annoying could she?" Ronald Weasley complained loudly enough for the entire courtyard to hear, even the person that he was insulting, Hermione.

Hermione stood at the door of the Charms classroom and was waiting for Lacie so they could go to lunch together. Hermione flinched as she continued to hear Ronald Weasley talk about her and grew steadily angrier. She couldn't say that she hated him, but she was getting close to it. Hermione wanted to confront him and wipe that complacent smile off his freckled face. Seeing that Lacie was still having an animated conversation with Professor Flitwick, Hermione stormed up to the little crowd around Ron and stopped in their path.

"Better a dwarf than a complete troll," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes at the tall, redheaded boy.

"Er... you heard?" Ronald's ears reddened at the tips. As Hermione had hoped, his smile disappeared.

"I'm sure that the world and his troll would have been able to hear you, Weasley," Hermione snapped.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, Hermione," Harry Potter, Ronald's right-hand man – or vice versa – interrupted. He had a somewhat troubled expression on his face. Harry elbowed Ron in the side and gave him a dark look.

Ronald coughed and said in an unconvincing tone, "I didn't mean it."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She didn't believe that for one second. However, it was better for her to confront the matter now because it got out of control. She knew what it was like to have people saying things about her, making inside jokes about her and laughing whenever she was nearby – always laughing at her – _who would want to be friends with you? The know-it-all?_

_Stop it, stop it_, Hermione forced in her mind, pushing everything else away. She immersed her mind with the useless information that she knew. How there was only a 3 per cent success rate of some charms - like the Levitating Charm they were learning at the current moment - if you did it without the wand movement and that was at NEWT level.

"So, where's your _pureblood_ friend?" Ronald asked suddenly, changing the subject and inadvertently interrupting Hermione's thoughts. The Gryffindor boys around her sniggered slightly. Harry was the only one who looked genuinely mortified.

"She's talking to Professor Flitwick. Why?" Hermione caught onto the sniggers. She could tell what was almost going on almost instantaneously.

"Oh, nothing."

"What, Weasley?"

"I heard something about your precious Malfoy friend," Ronald muttered. Harry was hissing now and was trying to pull Ron away, whilst the Gryffindor boys egged Ronald on.

"Who from?"

"Fred and George, who heard it from some fifth-years."

"Not interested," Hermione said, walking off. She knew that Fred and George were a pair of jokers. She had witnessed it first-hand. She doubted that anything that they said was true. Plus, Hermione didn't want to get caught up with gossiping about people. She knew better than to spread rumours about other people, especially those who were emotionally vulnerable. She couldn't stand that kind of behaviour.

Lacie was also her friend. She couldn't stand around and listen to gossip about her friend.

On the other hand, what if it was something really bad? Then Hermione could find out and then tell Lacie about it before it reached her. Hermione stopped walking for a second.

"What, Granger? Decided not to take the moral high ground this time around? Can't help yourself from learning something new?" Ronald taunted behind her.

Knowing that it was probably going to be something bad, she intended to turn around and barge past the lot of them but her hesitation to do so made it easier for Ron to sidle beside her and whisper into her ear, "Do you know what happens with Pureblood twins?"

"No." She had answered the question almost instantaneously, unable to control herself. Hermione wanted to punch herself in the face, hard. She needed to stop the compulsive need to answer questions, to prove her knowledge. She needed to get a grip of herself. _Not everyone likes a know-it-all._

"Normally, they get married to keep the bloodline pure."

"What?" Hermione asked in a low voice, "That is... absurd!"

"But true," Ronald said waggling his eyebrows, "It makes sense, though, I mean, have you seen the pair? They're too close to be _just_ twins."

"You're a pureblood family, why aren't Fred and George married?" Hermione countered.

"I did say that it was to keep the bloodline pure, Fred and George can't have children!" Ronald said but then a huge grin came across his face, "Don't you know that already?"

Hermione reddened, "As a matter of fact, I do - ..."

"Anyway, my family aren't big on the idea of incest anyway, it's only radical families like the _Malfoys_ that would go for that kind of option," Ronald said.

"I don't think it's true," Hermione said stubbornly.

"I do," the sandy-haired boy on Ronald's left said, "I wouldn't put it past the Malfoys."

"Don't make it worse," Harry hissed to the boy shyly.

"Us talking about it doesn't stop them from being, you know, and plus, who would want to marry her anyway? I say, if Draco doesn't marry her she'll never get married, the incest- ..."

Ron almost toppled over as something shoved him so hard that he lost his footing. Everyone in the area turned to look at the cause for it, but it was gone with a swish of blonde hair.

"Do you think she heard me?" Ron said, biting his lip, his ears reddening again at the tips.

"Of course she did, you... _urgh!_" Hermione turned around to chase Lacie, who she was sure was positively in tears at the current moment. She was about to chase Lacie when a hand grabbed her arm.

"She's not worth it," Ronald's blue eyes screamed an urgency that Hermione couldn't decipher in the heat of the moment. She didn't _want _to decipher it, she realised, later than she should have. Ronald Weasley was nothing more than a bag of trouble, even more so than Peeves the poltergeist.

Hermione pulled her arm from his grip and snapped, "I don't care, and Lacie is my friend, more of a friend than you are."

She sped off in hot pursuit for her friend, if Lacie still counted her as that still.

X-x-x-x-x

"But Lacie, you have to come out," Hermione said through the cubicle door. "We have lessons."

"Don't want to," she sniffed, "I'm too ashamed."

"It's just a silly little rumour, it'll last a few days and then everyone will forget about it."

"I have will still have no dignity!" Hermione listened as Lacie broke down into more sobs behind the cubicle door.

Hermione wanted nothing more than to hug her, to comfort her like a real friend would. She wanted to stand on the toilet of the next cubicle and look directly into the cubicle that Lacie was hiding in, but people kept walking in and Hermione didn't want to give them the wrong impression. Hermione watched as an older girl walked in and ignored Hermione as she went about her business.

When she had left, and Lacie and Hermione were alone again, Hermione said, "Ignore what they say."

"I cannot, my stupid Malfoy pride prevents me from doing so."

Hermione wanted to tell her to ignore her stupid Malfoy pride, or to stop using that as an excuse to stay holed up in the cubicle but Parvati and Lavender came in, throwing a spanner in the works.

"Oh, hi, Hermione," Parvati giggled. Lavender elbowed her arm and made a face that seemed to make Parvati quieten down.

"Hi."

"What're you doing here?" Lavender asked, forcing a smile on her face.

"This is a girls' toilet, take a guess," Hermione smiled, walking to the sink and washing her hands unnecessarily.

"Where's your friend?"

"Which one?" A snide voice asked Hermione how many friends she _actually _had.

_Shut up, it isn't the time!_

"Lacerta."

"Eating lunch."

"Funny, I didn't see her at the Gryffindor Table," Parvati said, "Did you?"

"No," Lavender replied. "She can't be in here, can she?"

Hermione turned around and stared the pair up and down, "What do you want with her?"

"Nothing, aside from the fact that I want to tell her that she is a disgusting little leech, I heard what Ron said about Pureblood twins - ..." Lavender said through her teeth.

"You can't honestly believe that, I've never heard of it - ..."

"Just because the _know-it-all_ doesn't know it, doesn't mean it isn't true. Her father was a Death Eater, after all, and we know that _that_ kind of family doesn't really take into consideration what normal boundaries are," Lavender said, pacing around Hermione and looking around the toilets. "Didn't you hear her at the Sorting Feast? She still thinks what her father did was right!"

"I'm not going to waste my time listening to this... jealous rant," Hermione said angrily. She turned to storm out of the toilets and only heard a, "What have I got to be jealous for?" before slamming the large door behind her.

_Damn! Lacie is still in there_.

Hermione stood outside the toilets, waiting for Lavender and Parvati to leave but thought better. There was actually nothing that Hermione could do or say that would make Lacie leave that cubicle.

_Stupid Malfoy pride_.

Hermione groaned. Of course, there was only one person in the entire world that Lacie would move mountains for. Hermione had given her Malfoy's letter and she read it with much reluctance before screwing it into a ball and sniffing. The fact of the matter was that she had still read what Malfoy had said, and that was more than enough to prove that she still felt a connection with her brother.

Hermione started to make her way to the Great Hall. Malfoy should be still there as it was lunchtime, if he wasn't, then Hermione would probably return back to the toilets and try and coax Lacie out of the toilets herself. She didn't know if Lavender and Parvati would still be there spewing their vindictive words but it was a risk that she was willing to take. Lacie treated her like a friend. Hermione had done a rubbish job of acting like a friend.

First, she had instigated the conversation with Ronald. Second, she hadn't gotten away quick enough and let Lacie hear the stupid rumour. Third, she had just left Lacie there to cry whilst Lavender and Parvati sang about the rumours to get over their obvious envy.

Hermione could feel the guilt building up as she turned into the Great Hall. At least it was a barrier from the embarrassment from the stares that she was getting from strolling down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. The Slytherins leered at her, said aloud subtle insults and at the end of it all, was a blonde-headed boy who had ducked his head in order to not be noticed.

His platinum-blonde hair was the factor that made him stand out on the Slytherin table. There was no hiding from Hermione once she had spotted him.

Hermione stood behind him, "I need a word."

He turned around, looked Hermione up and down as if evaluating her appearance before saying, "I have nothing to say to you."

"Well - ..."

"Get a grip, Granger, he doesn't want to talk to you," a loud, whiny voice said from across Malfoy. Hermione looked up to see Pansy Parkinson, basking in smugness.

Hermione lowered her mouth so that it was centimetres from Malfoy's ear and muttered, "You owe me a favour, so I would come along before I tell everyone that you indebted to a… _Mudblood_."

Malfoy went bright red and stood up.

"I'll see what she wants before some Gryffindor comes here and causes trouble," he said to a confused Crabbe and Goyle and a contemptuous Pansy Parkinson.

As soon as they were out of the Hall, Malfoy leant against a stone wall and crossed his arms. "I didn't think that you would take up the offer so quickly. I was almost hoping that you would go so long without asking for it that you would forget about it."

Hermione crossed her arms as well. He was right. She hadn't intended to use the favour so quickly. She could have used it as protection in a Slytherin biased Potions lesson, or to humiliate Malfoy as he liked doing to other people.

_Lacie would do the same for you,_ Hermione thought to herself and she looked at Malfoy.

"I need a favour."

"Obviously."

"Well, there's a rumour about you and Lacie - ..."

"Lacerta," Malfoy interrupted.

Hermione stopped for a second. "What?"

"Don't call her Lacie, her name is Lacerta - ..."

"She asked me to call her that - ..."

"She _what_?"

"Can we talk about what is important here?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy closed his mouth and made a motion with his hand for her to carry on.

"There's a rumour and, _your sister_," Hermione said tentatively, not wanting to cause any more disruption, "caught someone talking about it and she's really upset."

"What exactly was this rumour?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, er..."

"Well, what?"

"Er... well..."

"Spit it out before I strangle it out of you."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and said in a hurry, "Have you heard about what happens between Pureblood twins?"

Malfoy stood up straight and said in a serious voice, "Where is she?"

"The - ..."

Hermione hadn't even said anything before Malfoy had started running towards the direction of the Grand Staircase. Hermione followed him in some sort of frenzied haste. Without much direction, Malfoy managed to navigate his way to the toilets that Lacie had hidden herself in. Hermione could barely keep up with him and he was already pacing in front of the bathroom door when she reached him.

"Why – haven't – you – gone – in – yet?" Hermione panted, holding her midriff as a stitch had started to form.

Malfoy looked at her with a questioning look for a second and then opened his mouth. He closed it and raised an eyebrow.

"Because – last – time – I – checked – I'm – not – a – girl," Draco said imitating the pauses in between Hermione's words as she panted.

Hermione made a frustrated noise and pushed past him to check inside the toilet.

"Lacie?" she called out. There was no response. Hermione pulled her head out and looked at Malfoy.

"She's not in there."

Malfoy made a huffing noise and pushed Hermione out of the way. Hermione wobbled slightly on the spot and was ready to start yelling at Malfoy but he had already gone into the toilets.

"I told you she isn't in here - ..." Hermione started to say but Malfoy had a wand pointed at her.

"_Colloportus_."

The spell shot right at her and Hermione moved out of the way as quickly as she could. She stared at him with betrayal on her face, "What was that for?"

"I was locking the door, I didn't want people to come in here and seeing me in here, I do have _some_ damned dignity," Malfoy said with an amused look. He turned around and stared at the only closed cubicle door.

"Lacie, come out here now."

There was a noise, a sniff from the closed cubicle, and Malfoy looked back at Hermione.

"_She's not in there_," he mimicked, adding an extra falsetto that Hermione did not have. Hermione clenched her jaw and forced herself not to lash out at him. If he wasn't there to help coax Lacie out, she would have probably punched him square in his arrogant face.

"Lacie, you can't be possibly be upset because of the Pureblood twins rumour," Malfoy said with a grin approaching the cubicle door, "It's the oldest rumour in the world. Uncle Perseus told us it when we were five."

There was no response. Just another sniff.

"It involves me and I'm not upset, I don't see why you should be," Malfoy pouted. There was no real need for him to pout. She couldn't see him. He turned to Hermione with his pout and Hermione made a disgusted sound. Hermione wondered what fool would actually fall for that bribe.

"You're not a girl, nothing upsets you," Lacie said suddenly in a thick voice. There was a deep inhale of breath as if she was trying to control her emotions. Hermione rolled her eyes, typical Lacie.

"I was upset when you wouldn't answer any of my notes."

Lacie made a noise that emphasised her disbelief at that. Hermione would have made the same noise if she was in the same position. Malfoy looked too happy on the Slytherin table with his _acceptable_ peers to seem upset.

"You would not be here if you didn't owe Hermione a favour," Lacie sniffed.

There was an awkward pause as everyone gathered their thoughts. What Lacie had said was true to an extent. The truth was, was that Malfoy wouldn't have known until someone had told him. He may have ignored what the person had said or he would have raced to the toilets just like he had then. Hermione knew that he wanted to make amends with his sister and he was going to do it now, whether Lacie liked it or not.

"I don't understand _why_ you're upset," Malfoy said in a heavy voice and subtly changing the subject, "would it be so bad to marry me?"

"Yes." Hermione said along with Lacie. Malfoy looked back at Hermione and raised an eyebrow.

"You're not helping."

Hermione planted her hands on her hips, "Neither are you, what sort of question was that? Are you _condoning_ the rumours?"

"Of course not, but if worst came to worst and no one married Lacie, I wouldn't mind having the honour," said Malfoy. "Oh, Lacie. _Come out or I'll force you out_."

"I'd like to see you try," Hermione snorted.

Malfoy turned to face her, "I don't like your tone, Granger."

"I don't like you, Malfoy."

"Jealous that I might know something that you don't?"

"What could you possibly know?" Hermione said and then forced herself not to add, 'aside from making other people's lives a living hell'.

Malfoy pulled out his wand and then twirled it in his fingers before pointing it at the cubicle door.

"You're not going to blow the cubicle door open are you?" Hermione said, putting a hand over her hand and involuntarily taking a step back.

Malfoy gave her a manic sort of look before saying, _"Alohomora_."

Hermione had covered her eyes but she couldn't hear a noise that would have meant that a door was blown apart. She could hear, however, a little click as something moved. Hermione widened her fingers and looked between them. _Malfoy had disappeared! _No, he hadn't disappeared, he had gone somewhere. Hermione looked beside her and behind her, in case he was playing a practical joke on her. Hermione's gaze moved over towards the cubicle that Lacie was in and the door was ajar. Hermione took a few tentative steps towards the cubicle and saw Lacie and Malfoy locked in a tense embrace.

Malfoy was muttering under his breath as Lacie nodded and sobbed onto his arms. Hermione neared the pair, wondering what they were saying to each other in such quiet tones.

"You're acting like a baby, Lacie-Lace," Malfoy said softly.

"You're the baby."

"Mentally, technically I'm seven minutes and forty-nine seconds - ..."

Hermione cleared her throat.

They both looked up at her and Hermione almost took a step back again.

Separate, they could be considered stunning – Malfoy, less so as he had a foul attitude that veiled his handsome features – but together they were just exquisite. Despite their differences in opinion they looked far too alike to not be twins.

It was one of those moments where Hermione wished that she had a camera. Even though it wouldn't work at Hogwarts, Hermione could find a way to modify it and just capture the essence of the moment.

"What, Granger?"

"Nothing."

"Well, then, you should leave. I don't want you listening in to me grovelling to my sister all afternoon."

Hermione grinned. She looked at Lacie before turning around.

As amusing it would be to listen to Malfoy grovel, Hermione was afraid his voice would make her ears drop off.

Judging by the look on Lacie's face just then, she just had the same thought.

* * *

><p><em>Hermione's birthday is never really mentionedcelebrated in the canon books, so I thought I'd make it sort of a big deal here. I mean, even Ron gets his own birthday poisoning (not exactly happy) but, you know, the only thing definitive that Hermione has is that she has extra birthday money left over to buy Crookshanks. Come on! She deserves a cool birthday mention at least..._

_Anyway, not my favourite chapter to write, but you know, it had to be done :)_

_Love, Becky.  
><em>


	6. First do no harm

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

><p><strong>They are not Gods<br>though they would like to be;  
>they are only a human<br>trying to fix up a human.  
>Many humans die.<strong>

**Anne Sexton from **_**Doctors**_**.**

* * *

><p>Flying lessons.<p>

The prospect of them seemed to chill Hermione to the bone.

"Oh, come on. They'll be fun!" Lacie said in a breezy voice on an unusually warm October day.

Hermione gave her a look, "I can't imagine myself on a broom."

"It's the most _wonderful _feeling ever," Lacie said. Her eyes started to sparkle as she reminisced. "You get this feeling of being able to just let go of whatever's on the ground, it's peaceful, to say the least."

"I doubt Quidditch is a very peaceful game..."

"It's the best game invented, I swear - ..."

Hermione didn't get to hear what Lacie was going to swear as someone sidled up to her and attracted her attention.

"Draco, tell Hermione that there is _nothing_ to be afraid of on a broom," Lacie said to her brother. Malfoy looked past her and straight at Hermione. He smirked.

"Granger's afraid of flying?" Hermione didn't like the tone in his voice at all. She promptly crossed her arms and frowned at him.

"I'm not afraid of flying, ever heard of an aeroplane?"

"I nearly _crashed_ into an aeroplane once," Malfoy said, his smirk deepening as he recollected the story, "It came zooming out of _nowhere_."

"Draco – you were hundreds of miles away from the aeroplane – to be precise - …"

"I _still_ could have died - ..."

"From the cold and the altitude - ..."

Malfoy diverted his attention from his sister back to Hermione, "That's the different between a broom and a plane, you can _die _on a broom."

"So why haven't you died yet?" Hermione snapped before flouncing off.

She thought she would feel satisfied at having thrown that comment at Malfoy. She didn't.

In fact, her heart was racing with fear. She knew that the difference between a plane and a broom was that she could easily fall off a broom and die. She didn't need Malfoy to remind her of that. If flying was as simple as digesting a lot of theory, then Hermione was easily the year's best flyer due to her extensive research on the topic. However, no matter how many times that she read through _Quidditch Through the Ages, _she knew that she wouldn't be able to master it. It wasn't just flying, it was any physical activity. She had accepted that she was going to be bad at sports, possibly forever, and she accepted that she as going to be picked last on the team all the time. She just didn't like it when people like Malfoy decided to prey on her weaknesses.

She was a little afraid of flying. Or rather, dying. It was a stupid thing to be afraid of, death, but Hermione wasn't afraid to admit it.

Death was like a blank vastness of nothing. No books. No wisdom. Nothing. Hermione was afraid of that.

"Hermione, you can't let Draco wind you up like that," Lacie said, moving Hermione mercifully away from the thoughts of death and everlasting emptiness.

"Since when do I let Malfoy wind me up?"

"I thought - ..."

"He's only a pretentious little rat," Hermione said. She paused and looked at Lacie, "Sorry."

Lacie gave her look, as if asking her why she was apologising.

After a moment, she sighed and said "He's not as good as he thinks at Quidditch, trust me."

"What about you?"

Lacie shrugged, "I'm not good but I can still fly."

Hermione looked away. Even Lacie could fly. Hermione just knew that this was the curse of the Muggleborns, doomed to be second-best at anything magical for the rest of their lives. Thank goodness there was the academic side of Hogwarts or else Hermione wouldn't have really found her place at Hogwarts. At least she could establish a place in the harsh reality of the Wizarding World. A small tear slipped down her face and Hermione caught it before it reached her nose. She sniffed and turned even further away from Lacie.

A hand touched her shoulder, "You'll be great, trust me."

* * *

><p>Hermione wasn't great, Lacie thought to herself, the tone of voice in her head wincing, but she wasn't too terrible.<p>

Lacie caught the expression on her brother's face and his voice loomed in her head.

_The Mudblood is just as hopeless as I thought she was going to be_. Lacie caught the smirk that would be added on the end of that internal sentence. Of course, when Madam Hooch had told the Gryffindor-Slytherin class to instruct the broomsticks to shoot up from the ground into their awaiting palms, Draco's broom had zoomed willingly into his hand on his second try.

It had taken Lacie four tries. Hermione was still trying to get her broom up.

"You just need more confidence in the broom," Lacie urged as Hermione tried many inflections in her voice.

Hermione frowned at her, "I don't need _your_ help."

Lacie didn't like the tone of Hermione's frustrated voice but she could sympathise with her. Lacie wanted to tell Hermione that everything wasn't a competition or something to prove herself. She didn't need to try so hard. Flying was just _one of those things_. She didn't need to be good at it. She didn't even need to fly as there was a multitude of other ways of transporting. Apparation, for example, Hermione was the type to master that kind of Magical Transportation. Lacie wanted to tell her that flying wasn't important, wasn't something to fret over, wasn't something that should wind her up.

Draco hadn't helped. Then again, what part of Lacie had genuinely thought that her brother would be nice to Hermione? She was the trusting twin, believing everything that Draco said. Since when would Draco had believed Lacie? Probably less now that she was a Gryffindor.

Lacie composed herself. She was over that now. The days where she thought that the best thing for her was being in Slytherin was probably the most embarrassing for her. Lacie couldn't believe that she had lowered herself to thinking in such a way – she shuddered – she couldn't believe that she would even use a disgusting term and she had, several times. Especially now that she knew Hermione as a person more and how much Hermione felt like she needed to prove herself all the time.

"How did you do it?" Hermione's sharp voice pierced through Lacie's daydream.

Lacie saw as Potter dropped his broom on the floor and shrugged, "I dunno, I just tell it to come up, and it does."

"Show me," Hermione demanded.

Potter looked a little afraid but he did as she said, saying, "Up" as if he had done it all his life.

The broom zoomed into his hand immediately.

Lacie remembered as Potter was the only person who had managed to get his broom in his hand after a single try. Lacie couldn't quite explain that. He shouldn't have been able to do so, seeing as he was as rookie as Hermione with the broom. He shouldn't have had control of the broom quicker than Draco, who had been training on the broom since Father had bought him his first broom. Here, Potter looked like a natural flyer.

Arrogant so-and-so. Lacie bet he probably wasn't as half as good as Draco.

Madam Hooch started to tell them some basic flying instructions, instructions that even Lacie could have done in her sleep. However, before the class could act upon it, Neville Longbottom flew haggardly into the air and promptly broke his wrist. Madam Hooch fretted over him for a full five minutes before taking him to the Hospital Wing giving the entire class an expulsion threat before leaving.

_Been there, done that_, Lacie thought to herself. She was sorely tempted to start flying above the class, even if it was for a few minutes but she was already treading on thin ice with Professor McGonagall, and she could just see the Head of House's office from here. Lacie had already been in solidarity confinement and had almost gone mad. Lacie had no intention of going back to the room with the voices again.

"Give it back, Malfoy."

Lacie looked up. Draco was in the middle of a confrontation with Potter. Lacie sighed. Of course, Draco would manage to do that singlehandedly during a small space of time.

"Come and get it, Potter, if you can," Draco said with a trace of a snarl.

Was Draco _jealous_? Lacie could recognise that tone anywhere. It was the tone of voice that Draco got when Lacie got an extra chocolate frog, or when Narcissa gave Lacie more of her attention because of her training.

Draco gripped his broom and zoomed off into the air. Potter clenched the broom more firmly and threw his leg over it.

"You don't want to do that," Lacie had gotten caught up in the mess before she had even realised it. Her hand was suddenly on his broom and Lacie had no recollection of grabbing it.

"Why? He's got Neville's - ..."

"Shut up, Potter, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Potter looked at her with a little doubt but his hand was still clenched firmly around the broom.

"Shut up, Malfoy, stop defending your brother," Weasley shouted from beside Harry, glaring at Lacie. Lacie glared back, giving him as much as she got.

There was a sudden series of catcalls from the surrounding Gryffindors.

"She's not defending her brother, if Potter gets caught he'll be - ..." Hermione had pushed her way to the front.

"I'm sure this is less of an offence than what _she _did, he'll probably get a detention."

Turning her attention away from Weasley with a disgusted expression, Hermione looked at Potter, "Harry, don't do it, you'll get in masses of trouble, you heard Madam Hooch - ..."

"I _have _to," Potter said, staring ahead.

Something flashed in his emerald green eyes that made Lacie let go.

Lacie didn't quite know what it was but it shocked her. It was a look that she had never seen in anyone, something that she wouldn't have seen in someone. Not even Draco.

_It was like the compulsion to be heroic. _

Lacie could feel the recklessness reverberate from him as he kicked from the ground and flew into the air. Somehow, as through instructed by an invisible voice, he flattened his body against the broom, as if knowing he would get to Draco quicker. When he got to the small spot that Lacie assumed was Draco quicker than she had anticipated. Quick, for a first year that had no prior experience to flying at all.

That's when it hit Lacie.

He wasn't an arrogant so-and-so. He was a natural flyer. _Draco_ was the arrogant one.

Lacie had her fair share of arrogance, too.

Lacie stared into the air, along with the other students watching as one of the dots darted around the other and the other stayed completely still. Draco was being cocky about something. If Lacie had blinked she would have missed it, as light suddenly reflected off something, the thing that Potter had wanted all along.

Potter raced towards the object. Draco fell.

Lacie wanted to run towards her brother, to stop the fall. She wanted nothing more than to fly to him because she just _knew _that her brother was in trouble and he couldn't control the broom. She felt like she was going to scream but the energy to do so was beside her. She froze to the spot. Her attention was fixed on him, watching him fall, and then twenty feet from the ground he managed to pull the broom up and land safely onto the ground.

Lacie let out a sigh of relief.

She turned to Hermione with a grin on her face, but Hermione hadn't been looking at Draco. No one but Lacie had been. Everyone's attention had been focused on Potter's fifty feet dive for the thing that Draco had thrown. Lacie could see the red marks streaked down Hermione's face where she had clutched her cheeks in anticipation for something bad to happen. Nothing did. Potter pulled out the dive as if he had been flying his entire life, or so Hermione told her later on.

And now, everyone was cheering for him. Well, not _everyone_, just the Gryffindors bar Hermione and Lacie.

No one could believe it. Lacie still didn't. Not a first year. A first year couldn't pull off a dive like that, manage to catch the thing – which was in fact Neville's Remembrall – and land without a single mark on their body. However, Lacie had the entire flying class to contend with. Even Hermione, who didn't believe that pigs could fly until she had seen one float across the Common Room window – a wild Pennasus – believed that it was possible to happen.

"Mister Potter!"

Everyone turned towards the stern voice. Lacie's throat almost went dry. Professor McGonagall had arrived.

Everything that happened after was almost a blur. All that Lacie could really remember was the pleased expression on Draco's face, the Gryffindor's horrified looks and the glimmer of something unfathomable in Professor McGonagall's face.

"Come with me," Lacie thought she heard the Professor say sternly. Lacie was almost certain that there was something odd with the Professor's voice in comparison to what her face was conveying. It was a look that Narcissa would have had if Lucius had demanded Lacie to be reprimanded for unacceptable behaviour. It was a show. Afterwards, Lacie and Narcissa would have a little laugh about it before Narcissa reiterated that Lacie had been unacceptable. She wouldn't have been punished like Lucius would have like her to have been, that too, was a show. If possible, an excuse would be made.

Potter followed her, hanging his head down low despite the outbursts of her fellow Gryffindors. Lacie was the only one that wasn't outraged. She knew that the Professor was on the edge of some kind of euphoric victory and she was trying with all her might to conceal it.

If the Professor had been looking at Lacie, she would have seen an all-knowing smirk.

_Things were about to get interesting._

* * *

><p>Hermione was <em>not<em> by any means stupid. When she had seen Potter fly so casually into the air, a broom merely following his orders as if an old master, Hermione knew that there was something wrong. Or right. Whichever way someone looked at it.

She knew that to possess a natural ability you needed to have at least inherited part of that talent from somewhere along their genealogy tree. Hermione explained her near-encyclopaedic memory with the photographic memory of her paternal grandfather. Along his line, someone else may have had the same "genetic mutation" a book quoted.

Hermione didn't know much about genes, she could barely get past the dominant and recessive parts without getting slightly confused. However, she did know something about genes. Most of them had factors that enhanced or worsened abilities.

Hermione's memory was further reinforced by the fact that she was constantly surrounded by books. Potter, on the hand, had no contact with brooms – magical ones, to say the least – and yet he was able to survive a fifty-foot dive. At that point, Hermione knew that something didn't add up. So, she did what she did best.

She went to the library. That yielded no results whatsoever. She dug further. She found her way into the Trophy Room and that was where she had found it. Plain and simple, or rather, gold on brown.

"W-What?" Potter managed to say rather pathetically as Hermione grabbed him by the sleeve of his robes. He had just been muttering about something with Weasley and it was probably the fact that Potter had been chosen as Gryffindor's new Seeker that had kept him on edge. Hermione snickered in her mind. It was something that was supposed to be kept in hushed tones, but somehow Lacie had found out (probably by listening to the walls again, knowing her) and relayed the information to Hermione. Hermione was hardly surprised, especially when she found out what she did.

"You-You put him down, now!" Weasley was saying, trying to be intimidating. Hermione ignored him and continued to pull Potter with her.

"What are you doing, Hermione?"

Hermione got ready to roll her eyes. It was Lacie and she was far from impressed. She rarely was when he came to Potter and Weasley.

"I've got to show Pot- ..." Hermione paused for a second and then thought about what she as going to say, "Harry, here, something quite important."

"But...why, what is so important" Lacie asked, her whining tone almost akin to that of her brother's.

"If you want to know, then come along," Hermione said crossly, not wanting people to stop and look at them all as if they were a travelling circus. She continued pulling Potter down the corridor towards the Great Staircase. She had to tell him at least. He needed to know this, although it was no big secret as it was in plain view to anyone who went in, but Hermione doubted that Potter would ever step foot willingly into the Trophy Room.

When Potter had stopped struggling so much and was willing to follow Hermione, she let go.

"Tell me what this is about," he said. He hadn't even raised his voice at her but a small part of Hermione still managed to feel a little afraid.

_Any normal person would feel afraid. He defeated You-Know-Who when he was just a baby, not that I would know what the world would have been like under his tyrannical reign, but still... _

"Don't feel a little strange, if I tell you this - ..."

"Trust me, Hermione, I've probably heard stranger," he said quietly.

"I _had _to know why you could fly so well, you know, because I _know_ that you wouldn't have touched a broom before the flying lesson - ..."

"Did you find out?" He stopped walking and stared at her. His green eyes appraised her, darting from eye to eye in search for an answer.

"I did," Hermione said immediately.

He nodded curtly in response and continued to walk with her. Behind him, Weasley walked with a stony expression and when Hermione looked at him for an answer, he just kept his mouth shut. It seemed that curiosity had killed the cat. She couldn't help notice that there was something odd with Harry's demand for knowledge. She soon put this out of her mind and the four walked in silence.

Every now and again, Hermione looked behind her to make sure that Lacie and Weasley hadn't snarled each other to death yet. They weren't exactly on friendly terms, what with Weasley spreading rumours about Lacie's family (and sometimes Lacie herself) and Lacie constantly looking down upon Weasley and his family. They walked in silence, determined not to glance at each other, to walk with the same step or even breathe the same air. Hermione shook her head. They were a little childish and ignoring their intolerance to each other, carried on.

Hermione pointed to it when they reached the Trophy Room. A large trophy sat behind several of the same but they weren't the interesting ones.

"What?" Weasley finally spoke after keeping his quiet, "You wanted to show us some trophies?"

Hermione bristled at the tone of his voice and said in a sharp voice, "Not just any trophy."

Harry moved towards the direction that she had point and peered through the glass of the cabinet that the trophy was in. Hermione moved towards him and stood next to him. His eyes were fixed on where Hermione knew what he was staring at.

"Is that - …?"

"Your father? Yes," Hermione replied. Her eyes swept past the other names beside the single gold plate that she was solely interested in: _Chaser – James Potter_.

"That's not all," Hermione said excitedly and she pulled Harry by his hand deeper into the Trophy Room, "Look!"

Another trophy. Another Potter.

If they went further they probably could trace Harry's heritage probably to the beginning of Hogwarts itself. However, Hermione didn't want to intrude on a personal moment for Harry.

"You can fly because people in your family could fly," Hermione said with a smile, "it's in your blood."

That was the thing that Hermione had been searching for. Even though Potter had never been near a Cleansweep or a Silver Arrow, people in his family had. He had the innate ability to fly well. Potter looked as fascinated as she had been when she saw the evidence all piled up. Harry smiled at her, as if he felt as if something heavy had been lifted from him and patted Hermione on the arm, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Hermione looked back at Lacie and Weasley who were peering at the trophies with a little interest. When they saw that they were standing at close proximity of each other they pulled a face and stepped hastily away. Hermione laughed, the noise echoing around the large room.

"This is...very...cosy," a loud, clear voice said from the doorway of the room.

"Malfoy we don't want to talk to you," Weasley said with a growl, turning around slowly to face the door of the room. Harry and Hermione walked curiously towards them. Harry's smile from before was wiped off and turned directly into a frown.

"You're talking to my sister."

"Trust me, it's the last thing I want to do - ..."

"The last thing I want to do is talk to you, I haven't forgotten the rumour that you spread around," Malfoy snarled. Lacie, who was standing next to Hermione became more subdued and she started to shake slightly. Hermione grabbed her by the arm. Hermione didn't want Lacie to run off and lock herself in a cubicle again.

"What do you want?" Hermione said to Malfoy, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Nothing to do with you, _Granger_." Hermione doubted that he would have been so formal if Lacie wasn't standing next to her, as her face chalk-white with fear or anger or the mixture of the two. "I want a word with Potter."

"What, Malfoy? Cocky now that you're on the ground again?" Potter said aloud stepping towards the forefront, his eyes flashing dangerously, "Confident now that you have your goons on either side? Have you ever fought a fair fight, or are you scared?"

Malfoy's cheeks reddened, "Of course I have, I'm challenging you to a Wizard's Duel."

"Draco - ..." Lacie tried to interject but she was shot down immediately.

"Shut up, Lacie, this has nothing to do with you," Malfoy spat.

Lacie's cheeks went red, just like her brother's had moments before and pulled her arm out of Hermione's grasp, "It will be, seeing as I'll be his second. Who's yours, brother?"

Malfoy scrutinised her for a moment, giving her a good glare before saying through his teeth, "Crabbe."

"Place?" Lacie said, stepping towards Malfoy.

"Lacie, don't make this worse - ..." Hermione said, reaching for Lacie to pull her back. She didn't like where the conversation was headed. A Wizard's Duel? Seconds? Hermione knew the rules enough to know that Lacie and Malfoy were taking this literal idea too far. Potter looked on the wrong end of confused and Weasley just looked irate that he'd missed out on the chance of being Harry's second.

Malfoy, on the other hand, gave Hermione a malevolent dirty look that just screamed trouble.

"Shut up, Granger, let the real wizards talk," Malfoy said before pointing his wand at her, "_Dormio_."

Hermione had no chance to react as she had been hit by the spell before she knew it. With that impact, everything went cloudy to black.

* * *

><p>Lacie watched as Hermione's body crashed into a cabinet and hit a trophy. She screamed as the figurine on top one of the trophies pierced through her shoulder and reappeared, covered in blood.<p>

_It's ungainly to scream_, Narcissa's voice whispered in her mind. Lacie didn't care about being graceful in this situation, she needed to scream, and to let out her horror at what was unveiling in front of her.

"Draco, what did you do?" Lacie cried as she ran towards Hermione. Blood was getting everywhere, staining the marble floor. Lacie didn't know what to do.

_Should I pull it out? Should I cover it up? _Lacie's mind raced through possibilities and was unable to pick one of them. She tried to do a combination of the two and put her hands over the wound, despite the figure sticking out of it.

"Tonight, here, midnight. We'll settle this, Potter," Draco said, his face had gone deadly white and he scarpered without further ado. Potter looked as if he wanted to race towards him and pull him back to face what he had done but there was no point. Lacie knew what slimy people Malfoys were, she had the potential to be one, she knew her brother was one of them. Unlike her brother, Lacie was going to stay and protect her friend, something she doubted her _precious _brother would have done for Crabbe and Goyle, or even Lacie, for that matter.

"Oh, my God," Lacie was on the verge of tears, "What are we going to do?"

"Take her to the hospital wing," Weasley said from a distance.

"Do we pull it out?" Lacie was getting more frantic. There was _a lot _of blood and it was getting all over Lacie's hands as she tried to stifle the flow. "Oh, my God, there's so much blood."

"No," Weasley said, his face had gone rather green as he looked at Hermione. He looked away, "Lift her up and I'll carry her on my back."

"Will she be alright?"

"The longer you dither she won't be, now come on!"

Lacie did as he said, and with Potter's help, they finally got Hermione onto Weasley's back. Weasley ran off without pausing towards the direction of the hospital wing. Lacie followed, tears streaming down her face and Potter tagged along. She wanted to run as fast as Weasley was running but somehow her legs felt like lead. Heavy and hard to move, and that meant that she and Potter was forced to walk steadily slower and in an awkward silence.

"What if she's really hurt?" Lacie whispered, more to herself than Potter but he answered anyway.

"I think Madam Pomfrey will be able to help. Magic solves everything, even small cuts."

Lacie looked down on her blood-stained hands, "Not everything."

Potter looked at her for a minute. The green eyes that sometimes glittered with the same intensity as an emerald widened and looked genuinely confused. "When?"

"You can't cure death," Lacie whispered.

Potter chuckled tentatively, "She won't die."

"She won't, because if she does, I'll murder Draco tonight with my bare hands."

"Oh, the Wizard's Duel, I forgot," Potter muttered, "I don't know how to duel."

Lacie was about to wonder aloud and ask him how he didn't know what a Wizard's Duel was, but then remembered that he had grown up with Muggles and was probably as clueless about many Wizarding traditions as a Muggle-born was (barring Hermione who seemed to know more about some types of traditions than Lacie herself and Lacie had been trained to know such traditions).

"A Wizard's Duel is a one-to-one combat, no contact duel between two Wizards usually using offensive and defensive spells. In traditional duels, you duel until one surrenders or is incapacitated, however, in rare occasions you duel to kill," Lacie said from memory. She remembered this particular lesson as Narcissa had given her a chocolate frog for learning the rules and basics of a Wizard's duel so quickly at the age of six. It was also the question where her father had been impressed by the answer, telling Draco, that he had yet to learn a lot. Reflecting on it now, it made Lacie feel quite smug about learning so much without Draco being aware and being so far ahead in her training.

"You sound like Hermione," Potter smiled.

"I wish," Lacie replied, "Father told me to learn it, so I did. I wouldn't have willingly learnt like Hermione would have."

A moment's silence.

"What's a second?" Potter probed further.

"Seconds are there when you become so indisposed that you can no longer duel and they finish for you, normally, they're there in a duel to kill - ..."

"You think Malfoy and I will kill each other?" Potter said incredulously.

"No, the most you'll do it make the other sneeze, he'll probably send you crashing into a trophy – God forbid – and I'll have to show him a thing or two about a fair fight," Lacie said venomously. She couldn't wait to give her brother a small taste of what he deserved for what he had done to Hermione.

"You didn't need to offer to be my second," Potter said quietly, "Ron would have - ..."

"I know my brother," Lacie said interrupting him, "I think he's up to something funny, I just - ..."

"You just, what?"

"I just want to know how much he regards me still and whether or not Draco will go through with what he's already planned to do. However, it seems like Draco would be willing to do anything to get one over you," Lacie trailed off as she neared the Hospital Wing where she heard the most horrendous screaming she would ever recall. Looking at Potter frantically, she sped off towards the direction of the Hospital Wing. Weasley was standing by the open door, covered in blood and was trying to push Lacie away from what was happening inside.

Hermione was thrashing about a bed, blood staining the sterile white sheets, screaming down the heavens. Lacie winced. It had seemed like Hermione had woken up from her enchanted sleep and she was in excruciating pain and it pained Lacie to see it happen before her eyes. Tears sprang from her eyes, and before she knew it she was using Potter's shoulder to cry on.

* * *

><p>It was over. A bright light simmered through Hermione's vision. The pain was gone.<p>

Hermione groaned and tried to sit up, squinting as she did so.

_The light is so _bright_, _she thought to herself with a hint of amusement.

"Don't try and sit up, you idiot!"

Hermione's eyes widened completely as she felt something push her back down. Her shoulder ached as she turned herself to look at the person responsible for pushing her down. Beside her was Lacie, whose eyes had puffed up like she had spent hours crying.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, facing heavenward, "One minute I was asleep, the next a trophy was sticking out of my shoulder!"

Lacie tried to shush her, to stop her from talking but Hermione wanted to know. She resisted the hands and sat up, only to face Potter and Weasley. They too, looked like something grim had happened.

_Something isn't right._

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lacie said. It was the kind of 'nothing' that Hermione would expect from someone who was hiding something from her.

"What is it? Is it bad? I haven't lost the ability to use my right hand have I?" Hermione said, getting more and more anxious. She tried to move her right arm but it was bandaged so tightly that it could barely move. Hermione knew that if she could feel pain that it was probably functioning normally. Or not.

Lacie sat there and more tears slipped down her face.

_There is definitely something wrong. Lacie was never one who cried in public. _

"Malfoy, stop crying, you're making her feel as if there's something wrong."

Hermione looked at Potter for an explanation, "You shouldn't feel uncomfortable, she's been crying since you came to the Hospital Wing. I could wring a bath out of the amount of tears on my robes."

"Easy for you to say, your best friend didn't almost die," Lacie shot across towards him, sniffing and wiping her nose with a handkerchief that she seemed to produce from nowhere. She blew her nose noisily, something that really surprised Hermione (and judging by Lacie's reaction she surprised herself too), as Lacie always seemed so controlled.

"You're being a little melodramatic now, Lacerta," Potter said, shifting his body slightly and turning to Hermione, "You wouldn't have died, you were just bleeding...a lot."

Potter was definitely sugar-coating his words. Hermione doubted that she was just '_bleeding...a lot', _but she hadn't been conscious, so she wouldn't have known.

"Easy for you to say, she's not even your friend."

"Well, it's save to say that I'm enough of her friend to carry her to the Hospital Wing, she's not exactly light you know," Weasley said, his ears reddening.

"Or maybe you're not exactly that strong," Hermione snapped back but then she thought about what she had said and what he had done for her, "I'm sorry. Thank you for saving my life."

Weasley, who looked close to storming out of the Wing, reconsidered and said, "You're welcome. Before you say that you owe me a Life Debt, I refuse it, you can pay it off doing my homework for me for a week."

Hermione snorted but nodded anyway. She didn't want to particularly owe a Life Debt to Weasley, not that she knew too much about them – she would have to ask Lacie later or consult a library textbook – but Hermione knew that it was common courtesy for her to owe him one and call on it when he _really _needed to. However, an eye for an eye, a life for a life. If Weasley needed his life saving, Hermione would jump in the way of a deadly curse to repay the Debt, despite Weasley saying that he didn't want repayment.

An eye for an eye. That would be Hermione's defence, or even to be dramatic, would be her dying words of justification.

Then again, Hermione doubted very much that that would happen.

Weasley held out a hand, "Truce?"

"Are you asking me to be your friend?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes. There was something off about the manner in which Weasley had offered a truce, especially when they weren't having a fight. They only clashed in classes and even then, it was a minor matter.

"For a know-it-all, you certainly don't _know it all_," Weasley sighed. His hand was still stuck out, waiting for Hermione to shake it.

Hermione frowned at the little insult. Then again, he probably was just being playful instead of being spiteful and quickly put it aside. He raised an eyebrow and emphasised his awaiting hand, he was waiting for Hermione to reciprocate the gesture. She reached towards him, "Fine, truce."

Hermione also made a mental note to try and wean him off from calling her that. It wasn't so much that it wasn't true, but it bothered her, a lot.

Weasley cleared his throat for a moment and then moved on to Lacie, "Friends?"

Lacie looked at the hand, back to Weasley, then back at the hand again. She sighed, both of her eyebrows raising and took the hand and adding, "But, the moment you insult my family, the truce is off."

Their shaking hands got more exaggerated and forceful. They had smiles on their faces that didn't quite reach their eyes.

"The moment you insult mine, I'll hex you Malfoy."

As soon as that condition was agreed on, they retracted their hands at the same time as if they couldn't stand the contact. They didn't have the same problem when it came to eyeing each other with a large level of distrust.

Potter put a hand on Weasley's arm and said, "Now that we have that sorted..." he trailed off. He was trying to ease the tension slightly and put himself hesitantly in the middle of a psychological war. Hermione felt like giving him credit but it wouldn't alleviate the strained atmosphere. "Lacie, what are going to do about this Wizard's Duel?"

Lacie looked infuriated for a second, as if asking Potter, _who_ had let him call her Lacie but Hermione gave her a nudge and the look was immediately wiped off her face and it was turned into a friendlier albeit forced look with a somewhat genuine smile.

It was that moment when the four of them became fast friends, over that one incident. You couldn't bleed all over someone's robes and not become friends, just like you couldn't use someone like a human tissue and not be friends. Despite how much they disliked Draco Malfoy, Hermione couldn't doubt that it was thanks to him that they became such good friends in a short amount of time.

He did have some benefits to be around, even though Hermione would like nothing better to do than wring his neck dry for putting her shoulder in a bandage. Nevertheless, she trusted Lacie enough to do the honour for her tonight in the Trophy Room. She would have objected at first, but no one deserved a good jinxing better than the elder Malfoy twin.

* * *

><p><em>And that is how they became friends.<em>

Love, Becky.


	7. Forgive Forgive Say Not I Did, I

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

**Sorry for the long update! This chapter is really long as well, so I've split it into two parts, the second half will come sometime during the week, promise!**

* * *

><p><strong>Did I make you go insane?<br>Did I make the sounds go sour?  
>Did I tell you to climb out the window?<strong>

**Anne Sexton from **_**Anna Who Was Mad**_

* * *

><p>"That rat!" Ron said, clenching his fist and slamming on the table as he sat down beside Hermione.<p>

"I completely agree, Ronald, but _shut up_ people are staring," Lacie said, joining him at the Gryffindor Table. Harry, who sat beside Lacie, looked equally as livid. It was enough for Hermione to close her book and look at the three.

Since Hermione had been told to stay overnight at the Hospital Wing and was only discharged at breakfast when Madam Pomfrey had checked her wound and changed her bandages (with the strict instruction to return after dinner to have them changed again for the night) she was completely out of the loop with their anger. Had they lost the Duel? Had Malfoy requested something incredulous as reparations for their loss?

It turned out that they hadn't lost. They hadn't even duelled.

"That-that, coward!" Hermione said in a scandalised tone when they told her in detail what had happened the previous night.

"As if that wasn't bad enough," Lacie said, "he looked completely surprised to see us this morning, as if we'd be on the train on the way home already had his little, sneaky plan worked."

"He even had the gall to betray his sister, his _twin_ sister, no less," Ron said, "I guess family values isn't highly regarded in your family is it?"

Lacie's jaw moved as she clearly bit her tongue to stop herself from saying something about Ron's family. He looked at her as if almost daring her to speak ill of his family. Hermione kicked him under the table. Ron muttered an apology. Lacie gave him a look but went she caught Hermione's raised eyebrows she gave him a smile that was gone before anyone could say for definite that it had been there.

"It'll be alright though, I can get Fred and George to hex him," Ron said under his breath.

"No," Lacie said, a smirk forming on her face, "We'll wait."

"But - ..."

"Trust me," Lacie said looking at Hermione, "I'll get him back, I just want to keep him on edge, terrified at what we'll do."

"I would agree - ..."

Hermione never got to finish her sentence as something rather large – after all, it needed no less than _six_ owls to carry – dropped in front of Harry, causing the breakfast plates to crash and Hermione's toast to go flying into the air.

"What on _earth _is that?" Hermione asked, staring at the package.

"If I'm not mistaken, I would say that is a broomstick," Lacie said, crossing her arms.

"Let's open it," Ron said, his eyes lighting up. He rubbed his hands together mischievously and reached for the brown paper. Harry stopped him and waved a little card in front of his face. Harry had been specifically instructed not to open the package at the table. Keeping something like that private, did take the fun out of things but Hermione knew that there was a lot of fun to come. Starting with the jealous look that was on Malfoy's face when he eyed the package in Harry's hand.

Hermione knew that Malfoy wouldn't have guessed in a million years that Lacie wouldn't give him a single glance and walk off on him. _That _expression was something that cracked a smile on Hermione's face. Ron gave Malfoy a nonchalant shrug and followed Lacie. Harry inclined his head and walked on trying to conceal the broomstick as ostentatiously as he could. It was finally Hermione's turn to greet Malfoy in some standoffish manner.

"Why is my sister not talking to me?" he stood in her path.

Maybe not.

"Maybe because you tried to get her expelled," Hermione suggested. Her gaze darted up to Lacie, Harry and Ron who were looking at her. Hermione saw as Ron muttered something to Lacie. Lacie overlooked with a raised eyebrow and an urging expression as if she wanted to know why Hermione was standing around and talking instead of ignoring Malfoy.

_Since when were they close buddies?_

Hermione wanted to walk off on him, but she couldn't find the will. His stare on her seemed to paralyse her. _What is it?_

"You're talking to me," Malfoy looked sheepishly at her shoulder. For a moment Hermione thought he looked genuinely concerned for her well-being. He seemed to want to ask how she was and he seemed to want to say something nice instead of something disparaging.

Hermione waited for something. He just stood there looking as guiltless as ever. Hermione grew impatient. She knew that nothing was ever going to come.

"I don't leave a question unanswered," Hermione said coldly and then said in a quiet voice, "as soon as I can use my wand again, I will hex you so terribly you won't dare doing the same stunt again."

His composure changed and he glared at her, "Try it, Mudblood."

"Better a Mudblood than what you are," Hermione said, turning away.

"Why's that?"

"First of all, I'm braver than you will ever be, escaping from on a duel, Malfoy? That doesn't sound like what a proud pureblood would do. Didn't your mother teach you the customs? There are normally penalties for that kind of stunt," Hermione said with a nonchalant smile.

Draco seemed to grind his teeth together and as he analysed what she had just said. Hermione scoffed. It wouldn't take a genius to know that Hermione knew her fair share of Wizarding customs.

Then again, Hermione didn't doubt that Draco was half-troll. No offence to Lacie.

"And secondly?" he asked with a smirk.

Hermione knew he thought that he had her and that she didn't have a valid second point. Hermione knew that this wasn't the case.

"Your sister is on my side."

Hermione had turned away and unfortunately didn't get to see what Ron described as '_the expression he wished he could freeze forever to laugh at it_.'

* * *

><p>Draco was in a foul mood. So far, he'd managed to handle it very well. Now that it was lunch time and there was no lesson to distract him, everything came flooding back. The indignity of it all!<p>

He stroked the dark feathers of Eltanin and bit his lip. He contemplated writing to his father about the situation but it wouldn't make it better. Lacie would hate him more. It was bad enough that she hadn't reacted and was just treating him like thin air.

Eltanin jumped onto his arm and nipped at his robe. Draco stared at his dark eyes.

_Am I going to die?_

The rook just stared at him and then cocked its head. Draco chuckled under his breath, stroking him again. Had Draco been on the verge of death, he doubted that this rook would have had a peaceful reaction. Eltanin loved people that were nearly dying and would pester them until their death. At least Draco knew that Lacie wasn't going to kill him. However, he didn't know which was worse, death or Lacie's building wrath.

Draco knew that anticipation was a speciality of hers. She made people wait. She had made him wait several months before getting him back for something he had done. By the time she had done it, Draco was ready to accept the punishment just so he would stop having to look over his shoulder.

Draco wanted to nip the problem in the bud. He didn't want to wait. He wanted it _now_. Every curse, punch, insult that she was going to give him, he would rather it be now that it happened. He couldn't take the paranoia of having to watch his back every time he moved.

"What are you thinking about?" a small voice said behind him.

Draco shook Eltanin off his arm and turned around as Eltanin flew gracefully out of the Owsley.

"Nothing," he said curtly. The person stepped out of the shadow. Draco nearly, and at the last minute resisted, rolled his eyes when he saw Pansy Parkinson. The girl didn't know when to leave him alone. The girl thought that with a few familial connections and several invitations to Malfoy functions that she was the fiancée-to-be to Draco.

That wasn't going to happen in a million years. If Draco had his way. He couldn't stand the prospect of having to spend eternity with someone like _Pansy_.

"You weren't thinking about the Mudblood were you?" she asked quietly. Draco could sense a little jealousy coming from her.

"Why would I think about her?" Draco snarled.

Draco made a disgusted noise. _Granger_, _the bane of my existence._ Draco didn't understand it. The Malfoys were a proud family that had been pure for generations. They had connections with every well-to-do wizard internationally. His mother was from another pureblood family, the Blacks, a family that had fought for anti-Muggle regulations. How was it that the heiress of the two most prestigious pureblood families would mingle with people like Granger and Weasley despite the implications? Draco didn't know what to think.

Was it the training that Lacie had been put through most of her life behind Draco's back? That still made no sense to Draco. Lacie knew how important it would be to uphold pureblood customs. Weasley and his family had turned his back on such customs. Why had she become so friendly with him? Was it the influence of being a Gryffindor?

"I just... thought..."

"Thought what?" Draco asked with a tired voice.

"That maybe you felt guilty because of Granger's injury - ..."

Draco sneered, "I don't, she deserved it."

She had. At the time she didn't. When Draco had seen her fall towards the trophies and knew just what would happen, he had ran away. He had left Lacie to witness whatever had happened to Granger. When he had seen the large bandage, he could feel shame rise in him and he wanted to apologise to her or ask if she was already better. He just... couldn't. Draco didn't know what part of him shut down as he stood there.

Then she had said it, threatened him. Draco _hated_ to be threatened, especially by a Mudblood who didn't know her place. The shame! Draco wanted to curse her like his father would have cursed her – but he knew that it was an unfair battle as she couldn't properly wield a wand – and he would have! How dare she, a lowly Muggle at best, lecture _him,_ a Malfoy of the purest blood with generations of wizards behind him leading back to the Middle Ages or the beginning of time itself about pureblood tradition? It made Draco's blood boil in his body.

"Draco?"

_She just had to interrupt his thoughts. _That made Draco angrier.

"What is it, Pansy?"

"I heard Potter's on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, is it true?" she whispered.

She had backed away like a frightened deer before Draco realised that he had been growling at her. He immediately apologised for his loss of control. He looked away from her forcing his anger to simmer. Of course, she knew what sore points to press and it made control hard.

"Of course I know that he's on the team."

"Did you tell your father?"

Draco walked towards the rafters of the Owlery and stared out. He saw Eltanin swoop around the air in arc above him.

"And tell him what? That Saint Potter managed to get on the Quidditch team after touching a broomstick once in his entire life? Do you want me to get a Howler tomorrow?"

He stuck his arm out and Eltanin landed perfectly on it. He was carrying an earthworm in his mouth and looked at Draco with as much confusion a bird could have. After staring at Eltanin for a sufficient amount of time, he walked back to the centre of the Owlery and put him on the stand in the middle.

Draco looked up at Pansy, "Do you not think that I have enough problems already?"

"Lacerta?"

Draco nodded. It was such a pain having to sweet-talk Lacie into speaking to him again but he had to do it.

"I always knew she would be the black sheep," Pansy said airily.

Draco snapped his head up, "What did you say?"

"Mother told me that she once had an argument with her," Pansy said distastefully, walking towards Draco, "Something about our hiring of Mudblood servants was unfair because of their status. I understand why she fits in so well with Granger now, she practically wants pro-Mudblood legislations."

That was a valid point. Draco remembered the tongue-lashing that Lacie had gotten after overhearing her argument with Mrs Parkinson. "I still have to apologise - ..."

"I thought that Malfoys didn't make amends," Pansy said with a sniff. She turned her back to him and stuck her nose into the air.

"To outsiders," Draco said, hoping that she would take a hint and leave him alone. "I have to apologise to Lacie, or she'll do something, like write to Mother and tell her what happened with the Mudblood."

"So? Write to your father."

"I told you, I can't write to Father," Draco sighed impatiently. He walked towards the rafters and stared towards the Hogwarts Grounds. "Do you understand? Well, obviously not, seeing as I have to explain _again_. I can't write to Father and tell him about Granger and Weasley because he would blame me for not being a good enough brother and Mother will tell me that I deserved what I got because I hurt Granger without apologising – and you know how Malfoys hate apologising, especially to Mudbloods and blood traitors. Lacie will definitely get a Howler and she'll hate me for telling Father. She'll probably add in a letter to him how I single-handedly managed to get Potter on the Quidditch team and how I'm stuck, watching him fly."

"I don't think you should apologise," Pansy said. She appeared next to Draco and looked at him with sad eyes.

"Why?"

"Because, she's a _Gryffindor. _She probably doesn't understand you anymore, and you know Gryffindors, they're loyal to their own – like real lions," Pansy said, putting an hand on his arm.

Draco didn't like her touching him and shook her off, "Malfoys are loyal to their own too."

"Maybe, she's more of a Black than a Malfoy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, Sirius Black, he was a black sheep too - ..."

"I don't care, I'm still apologising, I'll do it tonight."

"Tonight?" Pansy whispered, "When will you see her tonight?" Her face dropped as realisation came over her, "You don't mean you're going to ambush her at the Gryffindor Table are you?"

"There'll be too many people to witness someone hex me, it'll be the perfect time - ..."

"Draco - ..."

Draco walked away from her and gave Eltanin a parting glance, "Don't stop me, Pansy, or we won't be able to be friends and trust me, I _won't_ grovel at your feet like a dog_._"

He left her there, in the cool Owlery with an even fouler mood than he had been in when he had gone in to clear his head. _Girls were so frustrating sometimes._

* * *

><p>"Do you <em>ever<em> eat with your mouth shut?" Lacie elbowed Ron, who was sitting next to her. Hermione had to admit that he was slightly revolting at times and the elbow was well deserved but she knew what it had provoked. Lacie must have known what it had provoked.

Hermione looked heavenward, praying that another fight wouldn't break out on the table.

_Just five minutes of peace, is that too much to ask?_

"Do you ever stop acting like you're so upper-class?" Ron snapped back after swallowing his mouthful of food.

Hermione groaned internally. Apparently it was.

"I'm not acting, I just have social etiquette something that _you_ should try and train in - ..."

"Look, my family are not bothered about stupid pureblood training - ..."

"Not customs! Etiquette!"

"It's all the same - ..."

"You two!" Hermione hissed across the table, "can you not argue for once?"

They had been bickering all day. From the moment that Harry put his broom in his dormitory, in between lessons and throughout lunch. No wonder Harry had decided to go to his Quidditch practice a quarter of an hour earlier than planned. He probably spent it having dinner without them. Hermione thought she should have just done the same but she didn't have the same excuse for leaving them.

Plus, _someone _needed to stop the two cats from having a brawl in broad daylight.

"He started it!" Lacie said, crossing her arms.

"_I _started it? You elbowed me first!"

"You - ..." Lacie said, ready to say something back but she caught the expression on Hermione's face. Lacie clenched her hands around her cutlery and closed her eyes. She said something under her breath several times before opening them and saying with a calm voice, "Where were we?"

Hermione shrugged. They hadn't been talking about anything in particular. Hermione didn't want to start a conversation in case Lacie and Ron got in a dispute once again.

She didn't have to, mercifully, as something caught her attention. Or rather, _someone_.

"Are you lost?" Hermione called out to the person. He looked a little shifty as if he didn't know if he should have carried on. Since Hermione had drawn attention to him, he had no choice. Lacie looked at the person and quickly returned her attention to her plate. Hermione smiled at her plate.

Ron had been right, the expression was so amusing to look at.

"How predictable, Draco," Lacie said, cutting her food into minuscule bits with unneeded force. "I'm surprised you came at all, if not alone, I would have thought you would have sent Filch to do your dirty work."

Malfoy didn't react to the jibe. He waited patiently for it to roll over him. "I came to say that I'm sorry - ..."

"I _don't _need your apology, it's really Hermione who does."

Hermione stared at her, not knowing what to say. _What is she planning? _Hermione looked up to Draco who was staring at her. He was shaking with some kind of anger that Hermione could explain.

"Why should I?"

"You almost _killed_ her and you won't say something?"

"I won't."

Hermione felt slightly awkward as Lacie glared at her brother. Her brother glared back as if he was a mirror (that so happened to change their gender). Lacie had a point, though. Hermione never received some sort of condolence from Draco despite being put in the Hospital Wing by him and was now unable to currently use a wand because of her bandage.

Ron just carried on eating. Hermione tried to use that thought to distract herself from Lacie and Draco. Ron's reaction to an impending end-of-the-world crisis: a hearty feast. Hermione's eyes watered as she thought about Ron dancing around with an oversized chicken drumstick amidst crumbling office buildings...

"See, you've made her cry," Lacie said pointing at her. Hermione's eyes widened and she tried to protest, telling her that something else had made her eyes water. She wasn't too concerned about not receiving an apology, she knew that she would get back at Malfoy some way or other.

"Crocodile tears," Draco said brusquely. Hermione's mouth opened to say something along the lines of how unfair that comment had been. Hermione didn't have to say it as Lacie said it for her.

Draco just chuckled nonchalantly and said, "She's just a Mudblood know-it-all."

Hermione dropped her fork on the table. The clatter caught Lacie's attention and even Ron stopped eating to look at Hermione's reaction. They knew that Hermione disliked being called a 'know-it-all' without knowing why. Hermione didn't need them to. She wanted them to just not call her one and slide over the reason. Hermione stood up, trying not to make the tears of laughter turn into actual tears of unhappiness.

"Just because I know things that you, Malfoy, couldn't possibly comprehend because of your troll-sized brain in that big head of yours _does not_ make me a know-it-all," Hermione snapped. She turned to Lacie and Ron, "I'm going to the Hospital Wing to get these bandages changed because _someone_ decided it would be funny for a trophy to go through my shoulder."

Hermione hoped that image would burn in his mind forever. She hoped that it would plague his sub-consciousness and give him nightmares. She really didn't care at that point because he had overstepped the mark. She hadn't asked for his apology and still he had to insult her.

_Well, I'm glad I don't have to speak to him._ _Ever_.

"Oh, hello, Hermione," Hermione pushed past Harry on her way towards the Grand Staircase. She was so irritated that she didn't feel the slightest bit sorry for ignoring him. Hermione just kept walking and walking up and up, not really paying attention to where she was going. She didn't even know that Lacie, Ron and Harry had followed her until Hermione started walking towards a door and they called out to her.

"Hermione?"

Hermione ignored them for a moment and walked inside the chamber. She assessed the darkness and realised that she had been going the wrong way.

"I think you've gone the wrong way," Ron said, stating the complete obvious. Lacie elbowed him. Unlike the last time that she had done so, he kept his mouth shut and rubbed his arm.

"Where are we?" Hermione wanted to know. She had never come across the chamber in all her time at Hogwarts. Admittedly it hadn't been a long one but there something eerie about the chamber that she had to know.

"I think it's the third floor corridor, you know the banned one," Harry said, paling.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because Mrs Norris is here," Harry pointed at the door where light was streaming in. Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat was prowling there. She gave the four a look that said, _you're going to be in trouble now_, before trotting out triumphantly. Ron gulped.

"We should go," he said quietly.

"If we go, Filch will see us," Lacie said, "I think we should go further in a find a place to hide."

"But - ..."

Lacie led the pack and strode forward, "There's a door, look! I bet we can hide in that room."

Hermione followed Lacie without question. Harry and Ron dithered for a moment before following. Hermione knew that they were being cautious. After all, Lacie was the root of most of the trouble that seemed to have happened in Hogwarts so far, if not, she was always around trouble. She couldn't blame the pair for wondering if Lacie was going to lead them to the thing that would give them the "most painful death" they had been warned of in the Sorting Feast.

That idea, to Hermione, seemed better than being caught by Filch, taken to a livid McGonagall who would put them straight on the train back home.

"The door's locked," Lacie complained, pulling on the large doorknob and shaking it. After shaking it with all of her strength, she let go and huffed in fatigue.

"We might as well get caught by Filch."

"No, pass me my wand," Hermione said to Lacie. She had an idea. Lacie looked stricken at having been asked such a request.

"You can't use - ..."

"Just do it," Hermione urged desperately, looking back at the beam of light where the door to the Grand Staircase was. Filch was about to arrive any second and Lacie was stood there, complaining. Lacie managed to pull Hermione's wand from the waistband of her skirt and she even put it in Hermione's wand hand for her.

"_Alohomora_," Hermione said, pointing the wand at the lock. It juddered, ever-so-slightly and then lifted. Lacie pulled the door open and everyone climbed in.

"Brilliant spell," Ron said as Lacie closed the door after them, "Where did you learn that?"

Hermione looked at the ground for a moment, "A book."

She could almost feel Lacie's knowing look on her. Hermione hadn't stolen the spell from Malfoy. She had honestly looked it up to find out what it did and it wasn't specifically his spell to use. Anyone could have read the same book and she wasn't technically lying. Malfoy had probably read the same book and that's how he knew. They were just both good students. Ron didn't need to know the complicated middle parts any more than anyone else did.

It was a good enough lie that Hermione knew she could get away with it. Ron would believe her, as would Harry. She would never have to reveal the embarrassing truth.

However, there was more pressing problems, like a three-headed dog who was snoozing slightly.

"What is that?" Harry asked, pressing his body against the stone wall.

"Isn't it obvious? It's a three-headed dog!" Hermione whispered across to him.

"What's a three-headed dog doing _in_ Hogwarts?" Ron whimpered.

Lacie hadn't spoken, which was a rarity considering that she always answered back to Ron, no matter what he said. Hermione looked over to her to see if she hadn't fainted of fright, but, she hadn't. She was just staring at the dog with a frown, like she couldn't figure something quite out.

"Lacie? Are you alright?" Hermione called to her.

"Cerberus!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Ron asked, keeping his gaze firmly on the dog who had stopped its snoring for a moment before starting again.

"It's Cerberus," Lacie said with a smile, "I'm positive."

"I think we're in a bad enough situation without you talking gibberish every now and again," Ron hissed.

Lacie crossed her arms and turned around so she could face him, "It's not my problem if you're not cultured enough to know what a simple creature is called, I say that this dog is Cerberus, guard to the Underworld."

"It's certainly - ..." Harry started but he stopped. Hermione stopped breathing.

A single dark eye opened. Closed. Both eyes opened. Sniffed. Realisation. The dog, or Cerberus as Lacie insisted, made a low noise.

"On three, we'll run," Harry said, loud enough for Hermione and the other two to hear. "One..."

"RUN!"

They all raced to the door, Lacie wrenched it open and everyone sprinted out of the room and the little corridor and when they were finally on the right floor to the Hospital Wing they stopped running. Even though they were on the other side of the castle and at least a floor higher, Hermione could swear she could hear the snapping of the three-headed dog as it tried to look for another willing meal to present itself.

_Thank God it wasn't us this time. _

Everyone but Hermione clutched their sides as they panted for air. Hermione's wand clattered to the floor as it slipped through her sweaty fingers. Hermione bent to pick it up but Ron did it for her. Hermione used her other hand to told her wand, to stop it from falling.

"What happened to on three?" Harry said, clutching his chest.

"The dog had three heads, I think counting to one was enough," Ron said rubbing his head with embarrassment.

"Cerberus!" Lacie said, "It's Cerberus not the dog."

Ron shook his head at Hermione and then forced a smile towards Lacie, "Fine. Cerberus, guardian to Hogwarts' third corridor."

"The Underworld!" Lacie insisted.

"Fine!" Ron said with exasperation. "The Underworld!"

Hermione made a face. There was something strange about what Harry had said, "It's certainly - ..." What had Harry wanted to say before he had been concerned with the dog? Hermione asked him directly but he smiled at her awkwardly and told her that he had forgotten. Hermione supposed that he would have seeing that he needed to have focused on all three heads to be able feel safe rather than looking around it – though, Hermione doubted there was anything beyond where the dog was standing – or see what it was standing on.

Something tugged at the back of Hermione's head, forcing itself to be noticed. _What is it?_ The pool that she often imagined her mind to be was convulsing, creating waves across its usually silky surface, and finally a drop escaped. Hermione could see the room again, as if she was standing in it, facing Cerberus again. This time, Harry, Ron and Lacie were nowhere to be seen, just her. Cerberus was frozen in mid-snarl. Images flashed through her head, chains on the wall, a lone candelabra hanging from the ceiling, a wooden mass under Cerberus' paw.

"Cerberus was guarding something," Hermione whispered. The other three stopped in their tracks towards the Hospital Wing.

"What?" Lacie and Ron said simultaneously.

Harry stared at her with a shocked expression, "A trapdoor! I remember it know."

"What would Dumbledore want hidden in Hogwarts?" Ron asked. He looked like he wanted to visit the chamber again to see what was underneath the trapdoor. Hermione half-wanted to join him to satiate her curiosity.

Lacie, however, didn't seem too interested. "I don't want to know. Come on, Hermione you need to change your bandages."

Hermione walked grudgingly to her and cast a small smile to Ron who looked momentarily dazed.

"I don't think we should ever go again - ..." Lacie started to say but she was interrupted by a surprised Ron.

"Are you mental?" Ron exclaimed, "there's something there! We have to at least see!"

"Are _you_ mental?" Lacie stormed towards him and sized him up. They were of the same height when Ron was slouching (which he did all the time) and when Lacie's posture was at its straightest. "Do you want to die?"

"Look, you _know _something about it, don't you? You should know its weakness," Ron said, trying to laugh off the severity of what she was implying.

"Of course I don't, I only know its name because I have my priorities straight when it comes to my training - ..."

"Your bloody training _again..."_

"And I don't want to get expelled, we had a close brush tonight - ..."

"You suggested we carry on in the corridor!"

Lacie sniffed and ignored him and took Hermione by her left arm. She pulled her along with as much force as she could muster without being too violent. Hermione knew it was safe to say that Lacie was angry as she was shaking even as she was walking along. Hermione turned around to look at Harry and Ron but they had already gone probably in the same fit of rage that Lacie had done so herself.

* * *

><p><strong>Pt II will include: Halloween and events thereafter. <strong>

**Ironically, I just remembered it was Halloween (it's over for us Brits, :(, I was Alice in Wonder(Zombie!)land for a party and tonight I was Sookie Stackhouse, me love the fake blood!)  
><strong>

**BS is actually quite short, erm, after the second part, there will be 7 chapters and 3 interludes, haha. **

**I will always be grateful to those who read this story and support it :)**

**Love, Becky.  
><strong>


	8. Forgive Forgive Say Not I Did, II

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

**As promised, the second half of Chapter 6. **

* * *

><p><strong>Number my sins on the grocery list and let me buy.<br>Did I make you go insane?  
>Did I turn up your earphone and let a siren drive through? <strong>

**Anne Sexton from _Anna Who Was Mad_**

* * *

><p>Lacie and Ron didn't speak for days. Hermione and Harry were slightly relieved as for them, they didn't need to put up with their arguing. However, if they did argue, it got to the point where they wanted to duel each other, but Hermione knew that Lacie had a garrison of spells up her sleeve and Harry knew that Ron was clever with his words. Either way an explosive duel would not be good for the pair of them. Since neither of them had insulted the other's family, the truce was still on even if it was connected by a fraying rope.<p>

Hermione soon lost track of everything that went around her as time went by. Lessons got slightly more difficult and the homework load was increasing and she couldn't possibly keep track of Lacie all the time. It seemed as if the girl seemed to disappear and reappear and Hermione had no time to follow her around all the time. She just trusted Lacie enough not to find Ron and pick a fight with him.

For a few days this was the case, however, by Halloween Lacie had obviously bottled up too much pent up anger and lashed out at the redhead.

Ron, who wasn't having any of it, attacked back.

It had been a nice day until they caught each other glaring at each other and everything blew out of proportion before Hermione and Harry could say anything.

It was something little over Quidditch. It was always the small things.

"What do you mean they're useless? They have won before!" Ron shouted across the courtyard to Lacie. "Just because you only support people who win all the time - ..."

"My family have been sponsors for the Montrose Magpies for centuries, it's family tradition for Malfoys to support them!" Lacie retaliated. "Just because you can't handle losing, maybe some treatment with the Chudley Cannons ought to teach you how to be a humble loser!"

"Say that again - !"

"I said - !"

"Go on, I dare you Malfoy!"

Harry was pushing Ron towards a wall to stop him from jumping on Lacie and plummeting her to the ground. Hermione was holding Lacie's wrist trying to move her away from Ron as if they were two dogs barking at each other. Hermione knew that if she got Lacie away in time that she would probably calm down.

"You're a loser, Weasley, like your failure of a family!" Lacie spat.

Ron pushed Harry aside just as a crowd started to form around them Lacie dodged Hermione and stormed up to him. They circled each other like wolves, glaring at each other as they walked around. Lacie's steps were more poised and practised compared to Ron's, which seemed to give her an unfair advantage.

Hermione pulled herself up with the help of Harry who had rushed to her side. Unfortunately, even after two weeks, Hermione was still carrying the burden of having a bandage around her arm although it was far easier to move around and carry a wand. It did stop her from stepping in between Lacie and Ron and tackling them to the ground without some sort of repercussion on her arm.

Hermione could see it in Ron's eyes. He _wanted_ to hit Lacie, Hermione saw it in his blue eyes as he stared at her menacingly. His fist was clenched around his wand and he looked like he would like to do nothing more than stab her with it. Hermione could also see as Ron almost became two people. First he was a boy, and boys didn't hit girls, especially girls who looked like little porcelain dolls when they didn't want to curse you. Second, he was a Weasley and Weasleys despised Malfoys. The jibe had been made about his family and he was only returning the favour. The truce was off.

Lacie moved as if to raise her wand at Ron and Hermione knew that it was time to intercept. She launched herself at the other girl and they collapsed onto the group, flailing around. Hermione couldn't really get herself up from the ground as she only had one hand really in use and Lacie was just rolling on the ground trying to get Hermione off. She was furious at the intervention. Hermione knew that. Hermione knew she wanted to hit Ron, hex him, hurl insults at him but she couldn't. They were supposed to be friends and they had let something silly get in the way.

"Miss Granger! Miss Malfoy! What on earth are you doing? Get up at once!"

Hermione and Lacie froze on the ground. Together they cooperated to pull each other up to face the ire of their Head of House. Hermione hung her head as Professor McGonagall started to shout at them to a crowd that only seemed to multiply. Her cheeks started to redden violently. She hadn't expected to get into trouble from stopping a fight. If only Professor McGonagall had some several seconds earlier then she wouldn't be in so much trouble and everyone wouldn't be staring at her.

"_If _you want to brawl in public, I suggest you do so at home! Don't hang your head Miss Granger, if you want to publicly humiliate yourself then I will do so for you," she continued to say loudly for everyone to hear, "Five points each from both of you and you will not be attending the Feast tonight as punishment, you will have it in my office instead."

Hermione felt something like an anvil drop in her stomach. _Miss the Feast?_ Hermione couldn't comprehend it. It wasn't as if she wasn't looking forward to the Feast all but after seeing the pre-dinner decorations that were going up at lunchtime Hermione wanted to see what was going to happen, and now she was going to miss it all. Hermione felt like she had been repeatedly stabbed in the shoulder instead of the one time.

She shot a nasty sort of look at Ron before looking at Lacie in the same manner. Lacie, however, covered her face with her silky hair in her shame for being caught fighting.

Hermione resisted the snort. Of course, if Lacie's mother had been informed of this, Lacie would never hear the end of it. Hermione knew from observation that Lacie seemed to keep up appearances, no matter how bad the situation was – unless she was in an argument with Ron – and she was impeccably mannered. Something like a fight would only sink the Malfoy reputation further into disgrace, for them, seeing as their heiress had been Sorted into the _unsatisfactory _House.

The Professor seemed to swell with fury as she said in a tight voice, "Miss Malfoy if I see you in this situation again I will personally put you on the train home. No exceptions!"

With a swish of her tartan robe she was gone as if she had vanished into thin air.

Hermione swallowed and stared at the spot where Professor McGonagall had been standing moments before. The crowd around them, after seeing the full show and probably got their preferred conclusion, disbanded to the lessons that they were supposed to have been in. They were now a full ten minutes late and Hermione sped off to her next lesson, paying no attention to Lacie.

She was annoyed with the girl. She understood that she was feuding with Ron but she needn't have taken it so seriously. Ron wouldn't have hit her. He would have insulted her, jinxed her with the little he knew and that would have been it. Hermione didn't know why Lacie revelled in discord and managed to start fights for the simplest of reasons. Hermione never hated the word "Quidditch" more so at that moment but it was all that Harry was going to be speaking about on account of being the new Seeker and was due to play his first match the next week. She was suddenly a little relieved that she wasn't going to be present at the Halloween Feast, yet, it was another factor that seemed to wear Hermione out.

She groaned and, having set out her parchment and her ink for the History of Magic lesson, she felt like putting her head on the desk. Ignoring Lacie's furtive looks beside her, Hermione paid more attention to the ghost teacher that she had ever hoped to have done if she wasn't angry with Lacie.

_I just hope that this material will be on the exam_, Hermione thought as she stared at her notes and her snoozing classmates moments before they were dismissed.

* * *

><p>"This is depressing," Lacie said as she prodded her food with her knife.<p>

Hermione didn't do any more than give her a dirty look. Lacie's cutlery fell onto the table with a clatter.

"Don't give me that look, Hermione."

Hermione forced a smile to annoy Lacie. It worked. Lacie pouted her lips and started to sulk.

Hermione had always found it amusing how someone like Lacie found the capacity to sulk. Since Lacie constantly spoke about her special training where she was taught how to act in public, Hermione always thought that she had a superior sense of maturity. As Hermione looked at Lacie's jutted-out lower lip, she realised that this wasn't always the case. She did have times when she could emulate her brother's tactics perfectly.

Hermione let her sulk. She wasn't about to feel sorry for her or fall for it.

After a while, where Lacie had started rocking forwards and backwards, made suggestive sniffing noises and looked at Hermione with her best doe eyes she gave up with a huff.

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry, Hermione for getting you into trouble, happy?" Lacie said grumpily stabbing her carrots.

Hermione smirked. She was content, for now.

"I'll apologise to Ronald later too, I suppose I was out of line before," Lacie thought out aloud before realising what she had said and she reddened. Hermione looked at her with a startled expression.

_Was that a change in her that I didn't see?_ Hermione thought. Hours ago, Hermione knew for a fact that there was no way that Lacie would apologise to Ron and yet, she had chosen to do so without any nagging from Hermione. Hermione knew that Lacie had a knack for apologising for her brother, which had almost ceased since they stopped speaking, but she didn't really apologise if she was in the wrong. She would normally find a way so that she would be in the right. Yet, here she was, planning to say 'sorry', something Hermione wished that her brother could do.

"I suppose this isn't too bad," Hermione commented, "I mean, it could be worse, we could have had detention with Filch."

The thought of that itself sent shudders down their spine. Lacie played with her food and Hermione watched.

"I want to go to the bathroom." Lacie said standing up. She stood there and let Hermione continue to watch her as she fidgeted and looked at Hermione with a forlorn glance. Hermione got the hint.

"I'll come with you," she sighed. Lacie grinned and linked her arm with Hermione and almost skipped out of McGonagall's office dragging Hermione along.

* * *

><p>No sooner had Quirinus' body collapsed onto the stone floor, chaos had erupted.<p>

Minerva wanted to roll her eyes at the screaming first-and-second years but realised that they couldn't help feeling so afraid. Those who had come from a Wizard background had heard fairytales of rabid trolls purging the landscape, only to be controlled by mighty wizards, of which they were not. Those from Muggle parentage didn't know what a real troll was and just listened to their peers and screamed. The noise was astoundingly loud and shrill.

Third-and-fourth years were not as frightened as the first-and-second years but they still looked like they would have run, if it didn't ruin their reputation of having a false bravado. Minerva could see as some feigned courage and overcompensated it, which revealed their inner coward.

The fifth-and-sixth years had mad glints in their eyes. They weren't afraid of the troll, since they knew that it wouldn't do any harm to them, if they didn't attack it first. Minerva knew why, trolls had a small brain, small enough for them to take advantage of its limited knowledge. That was probably why they had that glint, a look that frequented the faces of the Weasley twins too often for her to keep up with. They probably wanted to trick the troll and do something to it.

The seventh years just carried on eating as if it was a normal day at Hogwarts. They didn't really care about the troll on its rampage and the fact that the first-years were terrified. They had been there once and the first-years needed to learn that this was normal for Hogwarts. Although many would have wondered why there was a troll at Hogwarts, the seventh-years would and answer, "It's _Hogwarts_."

Nonetheless, although characteristic of Hogwarts to have creatures popping out of neglected cupboards and tricks played on the students by the poltergeist, a mountain troll had never managed to wander the corridors. In fact, the troll wasn't even supposed to be there. As far as Minerva knew, the troll had another function and there was no plausible way that the troll could have left the room in which it was.

_There's some foul play at work here_, Minerva thought to herself, staring at Quirinus' twitching body as Albus tried to assure the frightened lower years that they were to finish the Halloween Feast in their Common Room and that the teachers would sort out the problem with an utmost urgency. Minerva had wouldn't deny that she was raring to go and tackle the alleged troll that was wandering the Hogwarts' halls. A teenage youth seemed to come over her as she stood to her feet and looked over her evacuating Gryffindors. Trailing the pack were a worried-looking Harry Potter and a scowling Ronald Weasley. It was a scowl that would have given Molly Weasley a run for her money, Minerva reminisced.

Putting aside fond memories that involved a certainly easily irate redhead, Minerva put her priorities in order. She was to locate the aforementioned troll, make sure that her Gryffindors were all alright before having a good chat with Albus about the past.

"Where are Miss Malfoy and Miss Granger?" a low voice asked beside her. Minerva turned slightly to her right and saw Severus speaking to her. Minerva frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"I have not seen the two girls all evening," Severus noted, "I was asking you if you knew."

Minerva remembered, "Of course, I am their Head of House."

"Then, where are they?" he probed further.

"My office, they were not allowed to come to the Feast due to a shameful display of cat-fighting," Minerva said, "I will send them a message informing them of the situation."

Severus raised an eyebrow at this revelation but he didn't say anything.

Minerva pulled out her wand and waved it, "_Expecto Patronum!"_

A silvery cat jumped out from the end of her wand and then pranced around the table, it's paw slid through the delicious food that was laden there. Minerva reached out to touch her little creation and the cat reciprocated her touch by allowing to be petted. Minerva thought she could hear a snort of disapproval from Severus.

"Go to my office and pass on this message, 'Return to the Common Room immediately, you will find out once you are there.'"

The cat dropped gracefully to the floor and danced along the Hufflepuff table towards the door. Minerva, along with Severus, followed the other teachers and set off in hot pursuit for the troll, each taking a different floor.

* * *

><p>"Hurry up," Hermione complained through the cubicle door. Hermione then proceeded to pace the girl's bathroom with a pout.<p>

"Stop rushing me," Lacie said from the cubicle. Her voice was magnified to twice the volume to what it normally have been, "you're making me anxious."

"So?" Hermione asked.

"I can't..._go_...when I'm anxious," Lacie said in a mortified whisper. Hermione could feel her own cheeks redden and she could only imagine how red Lacie was right now. Hermione turned the cold water on and plugged the sink. She filled the sink and splashed her face with the water in attempt to cool her face down. Just as she was wiping her eyes free from the water, a really bad smell wafted over.

Hermione didn't want to comment on the smell in case it was Lacie and it would be entirely too embarrassing for her to even speak of it so she continued to wipe her face dry. That was until she caught something in the reflection of the mirror above the sink.

"Er...Lacie," she called out tentatively. There was a flushing noise.

"What?"

"Not to worry you, but there seems to be a _troll_ in the bathroom," Hermione said her voice getting steadily squeakier.

Hermione could see the cubicle that Lacie was in from the mirror and she saw as Lacie's mouth gaped open as she saw the troll. She stared at it with wide eyes and started to shake. She turned very gingerly to face Hermione, but enough so that she could still see the troll itself.

"No sudden movements," Lacie said in a low voice.

"Why?"

"In case we startle it," she replied.

"_We'll_ startle the troll?" Hermione squeaked incredulously.

"Trolls are easily startled - ..."

"How about we try and get out and go back to Professor McGonagall's office and tell her that there is a _troll_ in the girl's bathroom," Hermione said. She kept her attention on the troll but she could see Lacie nod carefully.

Hermione sidestepped along the sinks, so that she could still see the troll but also get closer to the door. Every step was quiet and Hermione hoped with all her might that the troll wouldn't notice her subtle steps to the left. Hermione saw as Lacie pressed her body against the cubicles to edge around the troll, which was grunting slightly as it stared blindly around the room.

That changed when Hermione's wand fell out of her pocket with a clatter onto the tiled floor. Hermione felt slightly stunned, as if she didn't believe what was going on. She hastily picked up her wand and stood up, and not a moment too soon, as she caught the reflection of a fast approaching club. She ducked in the nick of time and rolled across the tiled floor. Hermione was now staring at the troll who was decidedly paying attention to her now.

Lacie took the cue to speed across the bathroom. At least she would be able to run and find the nearest teacher to tell them that Hermione was alone and confronting a troll by herself.

However that was not to be as Lacie soon shouted, "The door's locked!" from behind the troll.

"What do you mean the doors locked?" Hermione whimpered as she crawled further back into the corner of the bathroom, shying away from the troll who lavished in threatening her with the club in his hand.

"I mean, it's locked."

"Well unlock it!"

"It's locked from the outside!"

Thankfully, the troll seemed to get confused by the two sources of sound and frequently turned around distractedly away from Hermione. Hermione tried to use these moments to run away but when she chose to do so, the troll always turned back to her, forcing her to press her back into the corner.

"Use Alohomora!"

Hermione heard as Lacie did so from behind the troll but there was nothing. Lacie couldn't open the door with the spell and she was speaking hysterically.

Biting her lip and gathering as much courage as she could, Hermione sprinted across the sinks and dived into one the cubicles. The troll's club missed her by inches as she felt a draft down her back and the spray of water and ceramic as the club collided with the sink.

"Hermione! What are you doing?"

"I'm distracting it!" Hermione called from inside the cubicle. She watched as the troll peered inside the cubicle and eyed her with dumb malevolence. "Find some way of stopping it before it kills me!"

"I don't - ..." Hermione heard Lacie say but she stopped listening to duck as the troll sent his club across the cubicles, making the wooden walls collapse around Hermione and push her hard to the ground. Hermione had to react quickly before it completely battered her into a pancake, and Hermione didn't want that to happen. She crawled from under rubble and rolled away from the advancing club. She managed to get herself on her feet and across the bathroom to the other cubicles before the club sent them crashing down too. Hermione backed away and found that there was nowhere to run, not without involving Lacie in everything, and nowhere to hide.

It didn't help that the floor was slippery and Hermione almost slipped backwards on the ground as she stepped back.

"Lacie, can you do something about the water?" Hermione asked, "I-I don't know any spells."

"Like what?"

Hermione could see through the space between the trolls' legs that Lacie was pressed against the wall in fear.

"I don't know, get rid of it?" Hermione asked desperately. She thought through her mind for wild suggestions that may help the problem. She remembered how she had almost slipped on the ground.

"Do you know any freezing spells?" Hermione questioned, praying with all her might that she might.

"I don't – …" Lacie replied with a whine of terror but then she stopped and muttered something that was blocked by the grunting of the troll.

"What?"

"I do know a spell, wait," she pulled out her wand and waved it, "_Glacio!"_

The water that was spitting at Hermione didn't freeze but the water over the bathroom floor close to her did. Hermione pulled her wand from her pocket and repeated the spell that Lacie had just said. She kept repeating it until everything in the bathroom that had been covered in water was frozen and glittered in the candlelight. Hermione shivered at the dramatic drop in temperature. Taking careful steps, so she wouldn't slip, she distracted the troll, lunging in one direction and retreating in another. She was teasing it, mocking it, luring it to make a mistake.

It wasn't long before it did. It made an angry movement towards her, moving it's foot back and sliding. It lost its balance and went tumbling down, head first into the ground.

Hermione swore she could feel the floor vibrate under her feet with the impact of the collision of troll and marble and its eyes closed.

For a few moments, Hermione stared at the troll, not really believing that it was on the ground and unconscious due to its dramatic fall.

When realisation came to, Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

She gulped as she carefully walked to Lacie, "That. Was. Close."

The other girl nodded and swallowed, "Thank God I knew that spell."

Hermione laughed warily but it was cut short as the door to the girl's bathroom was opened to reveal Professor McGonagall who looked a mixture of disappointment, shock and downright anger. She stared at Hermione, to the troll, to Lacie. When she saw Lacie her lips pursed.

"Miss Malfoy, why is it that you are normally the one who is present when there is trouble about?" she asked in an exasperated tone.

"Professor, I wish I knew, honestly, I wish I knew," Lacie replied, staring at the unconscious troll. "I wish I knew."

* * *

><p>" … and we locked the door to the bathroom," Ronald Weasley was proclaiming in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry rolled his eyes. <em>He <em>had locked the door, Ron had been far to frightened to go near the thing but Harry let Ron have his five minutes.

"It was _you!_" a person stormed up to Ron and Harry backed away. It turned out to be Lacie who was sizing up Ron again. Harry sighed. _When did they not have a fight?_

"What was me?" Ron asked in a confused voice.

"Locking the troll in the bathroom!" Lacie said loudly and angrily.

"Yeah..." Ron said. He was still confused. Harry could see the angry expression on Lacie's face. It wasn't something good, like Lacie was about to become Ron's biggest fan, it was like she was about to kill him. Hermione lurched forward grabbing Lacie by the arms to stop her from hitting him. Harry watched in the background with amusement. Even though it was slightly annoying to have to put up with Lacie's tantrums, she didn't half put Ron in his place sometimes.

"You. Nearly. Got. Me. Killed!" Lacie said, emphasising each word. Behind her, Hermione was trailing with a pale pallor.

"What?"

"I was in the girl's bathroom when _you_ locked the troll in with me!"

Harry smirked and snuck to the boy's dormitory. Although it would have been interesting to watch Lacie's wrath unfold on Ron, Harry didn't want to be a part of it. He had been the real person to lock the troll into the bathroom but despite that, Ron had already taken credit for it. Harry wasn't about to rain on his parade and take it from him.

The next morning, a tired-looking Ron sat opposite Harry and reached for breakfast with a yawn. Thinking about what Lacie might have done to Ron during her furious outburst led him to snort into his goblet.

This led to Ron updating Harry about his dispute with Lacie: it was over. Ron had apologised profusely for almost killing Lacie – even though it was really Harry, and Ron reminded him of that no less than five times throughout the day before letting it drop when people asked him how he locked the troll in the bathroom – and Lacie had apologised in return for insulting his family amongst the other things. She had also told him that she didn't really know how to get past the three-headed dog and that she would ask home.

Harry had ate his breakfast in a stony silence. At the end, it was a troll that had caused Lacie and Ron to overcome their pride and talk to each other with their tails between their legs, rather than their respective best friends.

Harry wanted to know what kind of troll this was and where he could get one. That way, he could send it to Aunt Petunia for Christmas and see if that would change her mind about him.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you liked the second half of the chapter. I wanted to stray away from the traditional Wingardium Leviosa scene, and add a little of Lacie's knowledge.<strong>

**Love, Becky.  
><strong>


	9. Interlude II

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude II<strong>

Dear Hermione,

We hope you are settling in well at Hogwarts.

We hope you would consider coming home for Christmas, or rather, skiing. We don't want to break the family tradition of going to Chamonix, but this time, we've also decided to take an extra week off to explore Monaco. We hope that you would want to come with us as we have not seen you for a long time.

We love and miss you very much,

Mum and Dad.

* * *

><p>Dear Mother,<p>

We haven't spoken for a while. I have been well, I haven't had time to write but Hermione urges me to. She gets ever so emotional and loves hearing the letters from you. She's been helping me with my homework and amongst all the other things I have to do, it is a blessing to have her as a close friend.

Things at Hogwarts are getting stranger and stranger and I'm not talking about Harry winning the Quidditch match, but what happened during the Quidditch match. Harry's broom was jinxed and nearly _threw_ him off the broom. Hermione and Ron were adamant that it was Uncle Severus at the end of it all, but I don't think so. He isn't the type to do something like that, as he respects the rules too much. They don't listen to my opinion but I guess I wouldn't be too surprised, they don't know Uncle Severus like I do.

There was also a troll in Hogwarts, but I suppose it is Hogwarts. It was thanks to my training that Hermione 'lived to tell the tale' as Professor McGonagall put it. Again, the strange thing about it was that after that day, Uncle Severus was seen limping. We, this time including me, think that Uncle Severus was involved with stealing something dear. I don't know how dear it is, or what it is, but it's _important_. Cerberus is guarding it. I am sure of it, it is a three-headed canine. I remember you read me a story about Cerberus – the creature that guards the Underworld, which leads me to wonder that Uncle Severus is involved with something that may end up killing him.

I'm worried, Mother, I'm also afraid. What if he does keep meddling and end up dying? I might just be paranoid though.

Your dearest daughter,

Lacie.

* * *

><p>Dear Lacie,<p>

Don't worry about Severus, he is a grown man. Worry about yourself, trolls and Cerberus? That sounds dangerous but I do suppose that the budding friendship with Harry Potter is certainly a most adventurous one. He must attract danger like a magnet and sometimes I wonder if he has a siren to do so for him. As for Severus jinxing his broom, I would not put it past Severus. The man detested his father and you know men and their school-boy grudges. Severus would not have killed him, he would have probably have done enough for Slytherin to pull forward in the Tournament. Do not fret, as Harry pulled through the dirty tactics. Bravo for him, he truly deserves his position on the team despite only being a first-year.

The Cerberus in Hogwarts is interesting, I wonder what Dumbledore is doing with it. The last record of it was that it was in the Underworld, unless it is a child of the original Cerberus. I will research further into it – not to expose it, but rather out of personal interest. I see that Ronald Weasley is also part of your new circle of friends, not that I disapprove, your father would _snarl_ but I have no problem. It is time we made amends with purebloods around us, despite the choices they have made. You know the core of your training, _unity_. I hope you can bring this with you at Hogwarts especially with your brother.

I am pleased you are settling in well at Hogwarts. Hermione Granger also sounds like an interesting character and she is right to tell you to write to me. You know how bored I get being stuck at the Manor all the time. I live for the letters that you and your brother write to me as I can wonder what to write about in return. It is strange how my two children, who were inseparable for the eleven years of their lives, have now become so intolerant of each other.

No, Draco has said nothing, before you say because I know you will automatically blame him for me saying so. Call it a mother's intuition. You have not written about him for months and he has not written about you. Frankly, he hardly writes at all. It must be because he is a boy and doesn't express his feelings well, your father is like that too.

You must try and strive for unity, starting with ending this feud with your brother. Lacie, I will not tolerate you throwing food at him at Christmas like two Christmases ago. I swear that there are parsnips _still _in the grains of the wooden floor of the Dining Room when you treated him like a human bin. I accepted that he wronged you first, but you have grown since then and you know how to control your temper. If you flick so much as a bit of mashed potato at him I will have you sent to Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, or somewhere so far away where we cannot write easily and will have summer-boarders.

Your loving mother,

Narcissa.

* * *

><p>Dear Mother,<p>

I looked over the information you sent over about Cerberus and his legends, the information was incredible, thank you! I didn't know the library at the Manor had that kind of stuff. Funnily enough, you withheld the details on how to tame it, or rather, make it so we can go past it.

Draco and I are on, civil terms, I will not be throwing any turkey at him any time soon so you can be assured.

I was also wondering if you knew anything about a person called Nicholas Flamel. I'm certain that _you_ would know since you know most things.

Your dearest daughter,

Lacie.

* * *

><p>Lacerta,<p>

I didn't tell you how to overcome Cerberus to protect you so that you will not do anything that would threaten your life. I do not want you to throw yourself in some kind of danger during your time at Hogwarts, if you want to have an adventure I will pull you out of Hogwarts and take you on one instead. As for Nicholas Flamel, I do not know anything of the man.

See you at Christmas,

Mother.

* * *

><p>Dear Mum and Dad,<p>

I'm settling well in Hogwarts, thanks for asking. There's all this _stuff_ that I never knew about, well, I knew about them but they were stuff of legends and stories. Like we have brooms, _flying brooms_ and we play sports on them. The first time that I flew on a broom I nearly vomited all over the grounds. I don't know how Harry does it. During the Quidditch match (it's a sport a bit like basketball but played on brooms) Harry was nearly jinxed off his broom. Ron and I think it was Snape and we distracted him enough for Harry to catch the Snitch (in his mouth!) and win the game. By the way, the Snitch is a little ball at the Seeker has to catch in order to end the game (it's a little complicated, but I read all about it in Quidditch Through the Ages. I would bring it home but we're only permitted to bring home one library book over the holidays and I had my sights set on this volume I found in a dusty section of the library on alchemy).

We have so much homework as well, but it's alright. I always do more than they ask for in case that there are some points that I've mixed up completely and need the extra marks. You never know, I could be really bad at magic and at the end of the term they'll throw me out. Though, I hope they don't since I really enjoy it at Hogwarts.

I am so excited for skiing – of course I would want to come! And Monaco, too? That sounds interesting and I would love to spend Christmas abroad with you. I cannot wait!

I'm sorry but Lacie is calling me, something about snow starting to fall. I best not keep her waiting. I'll see you soon at King's Cross for the Christmas Holidays!

Love,

Hermione.

* * *

><p>Dear Harry, Ron, Hermione and Lacerta.<p>

I was hoping you would all come and have some tea with me this Friday after your Potions lesson before you all go away this Christmas.

Hagrid.

* * *

><p>Dear Severus,<p>

Are you _out of your mind_? Do you even know how to tackle a three-headed dog? If you die, how do you expect to look after my children for me whilst they are at Hogwarts? No, I am not calling you a babysitter for my children but the children have known you all of their lives, they'll be devastated at the loss of their Uncle Severus.

If you want to die so much, I will kill you myself. Do not forget, your life belongs to _me_.

Yours,

Narcissa.

* * *

><p>Dear Narcissa,<p>

I do not remember being hired by you to be your personal nanny. Before you ask, I already have a well paying job, thank you very much.

Of course, I do not know how to tackle a three-headed dog and yes, I am sane. I don't know how to control all three heads at once and no spell will _stun_ them. I suppose you know to subdue the beast, seeing as you know about the dog in the first place. Do you have spies in Hogwarts? Are Draco and Lacerta little robots to do your bidding? My, my, I didn't think you were the type, Narcissa. Lucius, maybe, but you? Then again, you are a relative of _Bellatrix_.

As for my life, you do not own any part of it. Do not dredge the past and smear it all over the present. It's unseemly.

I am a grown man, I can take care of myself. As you insist, I will make sure your little protégés will not fall into the awaiting mouths of any of the three-mouths of the dog. I will make no attempt to go near it, until I have a way of making sure it won't try to bite me again. You have my word.

Your humble nanny,

Severus.

* * *

><p>Dear Severus,<p>

I'm glad to hear than you vowed to keep safe. Also, I was wondering what you were doing over the Christmas holidays.

Your expectant hostess,

Narcissa.

* * *

><p>Dear Narcissa,<p>

I refuse to go to the Manor on Christmas Day. I have not forgotten the parsnips that were thrown on me. I also have developed an irrational fear of peas seeing as I had to go to St. Mungo's to get three of them removed from my left nasal passage because of that day.

Your reluctant pulsophobic,

Severus.

* * *

><p>Dear Severus,<p>

Lacerta has promised to be on her best behaviour although she is sounding more reckless by the day.

I am sorry about your irrational fear of peas.

Your repentant friend,

Narcissa.

* * *

><p>Dear Narcissa,<p>

Very well. What time?

As for Lacerta, she cannot help her increasingly foolhardy behaviour, it is a _Gryffindor _trait. Though, she settles in well with other Gryffindors. Almost remarkably, rather, for a Malfoy.

Your observant friend,

Severus.

* * *

><p><em>Pure SnapeNarcissa banter here, lmao. Short chapter, but we'll have quite a few long 'uns. _

_:)_

_Becky. _


	10. Friend, Friend

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

**Friend, friend, spooking my lonely hours you were there, but pretend.**

* * *

><p><strong>Listen here. I've never played it safe<br>in spite of what the critics say.  
>Ask my imaginary brother, that waif,<br>that childhood best friend who comes to play**

**Anne Sexton from **_**August 8th**_

* * *

><p>"Remember, keep <em>researching<em>," Lacie said as she dragged her trunk from the Common Room, "I'll have a look in the Manor all Christmas for him."

She dropped her trunk and hugged Harry and Ron tightly, "Are you sure you don't want to come to the Manor? Mother wouldn't mind, Father would have a fit, but he wouldn't kick you out."

"A Weasley at a Malfoy Christmas?" Ron said weakly, "Fat chance. I'd have to put up with your brother for three weeks."

"Plus, we don't want to trouble your father, but thank you," Harry said over Lacie's arm which was around his neck.

When Lacie had let go, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Are you going to be alright?"

"Skiing and a trip to Monaco? You should be worried whether or not I'll come back," Hermione joked.

"Please do," Ron said seriously, "Or else McGonagall will get suspicious about my homework marks, and I'll end up not doing well in my exams and getting kicked out."

Everyone laughed heartily. Hermione patted him on the shoulder and said, "Tempting, Ronald."

With that, she turned to her trunk and picked it up by the straps and started carrying it in the direction of the Portrait Hole and called, "Don't overwork yourself!"

"Did _Hermione Granger_ just say that?" Ron whispered loudly to Harry. Harry dropped his jaw and looked open-mouthed at Hermione with a feigned surprised expression. Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair of them.

"In fact, if you don't find out who Nicholas Flamel is, I'll hex you for not trying hard enough," Hermione said, making sure that there were no one else that could listen to her speaking.

"And I wouldn't put it past her to do that," Lacie called waving and pulling her trunk along. Hermione and Lacie made their way out of the Common Room so that they could catch the last of the horse-drawn carriages to the platform where they would take the Hogwarts Express back home for the Holidays.

Time had gone by fleetingly. Too much so. Hermione felt that Hogwarts was just one of those places where it manipulated time to go faster so that the fun would always end. That's all that it came down to, Hogwarts was fun. There was an irreplaceable atmosphere every day that Hermione wanted to soak up. Now it was the holidays and she was going _home_. However, Hermione didn't feel like she was going home, she felt like she was going on a holiday away from home.

It was funny how a few months could distort her views on where home was.

Despite how much Hermione was dreading leaving Hogwarts, the train journey to King's Cross was remarkably longer than what she had imagined. She sat with Lacie in a small little carriage and spent the entire time talking to her about small things, like about what skiing was or like how half of Lacie's family came from France. Lacie also added, with much glee in her voice that she was quite fluent in French, having spoken and learnt it from a young age.

Malfoy joined them halfway through the journey and sat beside Lacie. Lacie had apologised, formally, before term had ended to comply with her mother's wishes. After assuring Draco for some time that it wasn't a trick, they parted ways and agreed to meet each other on the train. After waiting for Malfoy to get out of earshot, Lacie added in an undertone to Hermione that she hadn't really forgiven him and was waiting for the right time to get back at Draco. She didn't forgive and certainly never forgot. She really believed that she shouldn't have had to say anything to Malfoy, keep him on edge, but it was Christmas. If she could truce with Ronald Weasley, she should be able to have a temporary truce with her brother.

His presence didn't hinder any conversation. Hermione and Lacie carried on talking as if he wasn't there. He stayed, gradually getting closer to Lacie and Lacie somehow getting closer to him and Hermione noticed that it wasn't long before Lacie had rested her head on Malfoy's shoulder, looking more comfortable than she had been sitting straight. It was as if the term hadn't happened, and Hermione remembered that they were sitting with as much ease as they had when they first boarded the train.

"I heard Professor Snape is joining us for Christmas dinner," Malfoy said after some time.

Lacie shot up, "_Really?_"

Malfoy nodded. He stole a glance to Hermione who didn't look too bothered.

"Uncle Severus at Christmas, it'll be like old times," Lacie said excitedly she jumped to the other side of the carriage where Hermione was sitting and took her hand, "Uncle Severus – Professor Snape to you – used to come over all the time but stopped after this one Christmas where I threw peas at Draco and somehow managed to get them up Uncle Severus' nose."

"Was he alright?" Hermione asked. Then she realised that she needn't have asked that question. She witnessed his overbearing alrightness on a weekly basis.

"He went to St. Mungo's," Lacie shrugged. "Oh, I wish you were going to be there, not in _France_."

"Maybe next year," Hermione said weakly. Lacie threw her arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

"I'm going to miss you!"

"We're not even at King's Cross yet!" Hermione gasped, desperate for air.

Lacie let go suddenly, "But still. Imagine the summer holidays, it'll be horrendous, you'll definitely have to come to the Manor."

That was when Hermione heard a scoffing noise, "As if Father would allow it."

Lacie turned to Malfoy with a piercing glare, "Why would _Father_ have a problem?"

"If you hadn't noticed, Lacie, Granger is a Muggle."

"She's a better witch than you are a wizard," Lacie snarled. "I would appreciate it if you didn't insult her."

Malfoy turned his head and sniffed.

"I swear not all Malfoys are like _him_," Lacie said loudly, "You'll see when you come over for the summer."

Malfoy stood up and stormed out of the carriage, slamming the glass door so violently that it rattled ominously. Lacie tittered and stared out of the glass door. Hermione felt slightly troubled. Even though they could act as if the term had never happened, it still had, and would have an effect on them. Lacie, had undoubtedly made friends. Real ones. Friends that weren't afraid to speak their mind when they disagreed. All Malfoy had were his cohorts who listened to his bidding.

_Was he jealous_?

Of course he wasn't jealous. It was impertinent for Hermione to have thought so.

Lacie spoke in short clipped sentences after that. Although she was hiding how angry and irritated she was, she didn't use it to hurt Hermione in any way. Months ago, she would have probably said something that would take Hermione aback and almost reduce her to tears. Lacie was starting empathise with people's emotions. Despite how much of a Malfoy that she claimed to be all the time, she was susceptible to change.

The train started to slow as a concrete jungle surrounded them. It was no longer the picturesque snowy landscape outside the large glass windows but rather the hustle and bustle of city life. Hermione couldn't wait to go on holiday. She also couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts for the new term.

Lacie didn't say much, in fact, she didn't say anything at all as she reached for her trunk and pulled it off the racks. She waited patiently for Hermione to do the same and they both dragged their trunks off the train onto the platform. Hermione looked around for her parents. She didn't have to look so hard as Lacie pulled her across the platform towards a lamp where a young-looking couple were standing.

The man, had shoulder-length blond hair that he had tied back with a silver ribbon. His cloak was made to look like an expensive Mackintosh, which allowed him to blend in with the Muggle world outside of the platform, and was emerald green and floor-length. Beside him, he held a walking stick. He didn't look as if he needed one and he stroked the snake head on the top of it. The woman standing next to him wore her blonde hair down, letting it trickle down her back in lustrous waves over her pale blue robes that complimented her white skin. She held herself with as more grace than Hermione knew someone could possess. She knew that Lacie had a straight posture when she stood. The woman, had an even straighter posture, and was possibly more elegant for it. Hermione knew without a shadow of a doubt that these two people were Lacie's parents, the formidable Mr Malfoy, and his loving wife.

"Mother," Lacie said holding out her arms and dropping her trunk on the platform, "I've missed you."

Mrs Malfoy didn't say anything but embracing her daughter and pecking her on her head. She pulled away and smiled at her. She inclined her head towards her husband with wide eyes.

Lacie's expression became sombre. "Father."

This time there was nothing in her voice that would have suggested that she missed her father. In fact, it was bordering on indifference to him.

"Lacerta." He patted her on the head with his free hand and messing it's usual straightness up.

"This is Hermione Granger," Lacie said, pulling away from her father. Mr Malfoy gave one appraising look at Hermione that seemed to scorch through her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Mrs Malfoy said, distracting Hermione's attention away from Mr Malfoy's piercing eyes.

"You too, Mrs Malfoy."

"I've heard so much about you, is it true that you're the cleverest witch in the year?" Mrs Malfoy asked.

Hermione reddened, "No, Mrs Malfoy."

"She's just being modest, Mother, she really is!" Lacie interrupted.

"Your parents must be so proud," Mrs Malfoy continued, "where are they?"

Hermione looked behind her, "I don't know. They must have gotten lost, they're not used to the idea of walking through the platform, you see."

"Oh," Mrs Malfoy laughed, the sound was like silver sleigh bells, tinkling in harmony. "I understand, the introduction of a new world at their age is most difficult."

At that moment, Mr Malfoy hacked a cough and stared at Hermione. He looked from her to his wife then his daughter. His lip curled. Then announced in a clear, cold voice, "We must go find Draco."

Mrs Malfoy almost jumped and followed her husband who was ready to walk through the crowd of families. She gave Hermione a sympathetic smile. Hermione felt Lacie's hand touch hers, an apologetic expression covered her face.

"I'm - ..."

"Lacerta!"

Like her mother, Lacie jumped. She let go of Hermione's hand and walked to her father's waiting figure with her head hung low. Hermione watched as they disappeared into the crowd and lost sight of them.

"There you are!" a voice huffed behind her. Hermione whirled around and was attacked by a rough material rubbing her face.

"We've missed you so much!" Her mother's voice came out muffled as Hermione was trapped between both her parents embracing her tightly. Hermione felt herself smile and from that moment, forgot the snide and cool gesture of utmost rejection from Mr Malfoy.

* * *

><p>"Pass the peas, Draco," Lacie said, staring across the dinner table at her brother with a cold stare.<p>

"_Please_," Their mother reminded Lacie. Lacie said it in a growl.

"How do I know you won't shove it in my ear?" Draco asked with a whine. Lacie knew that the childish tone was merely an act. He only wanted sympathy from their mother, something he had gotten earlier when he demanded to be seated opposite her, next to their mother. Lacie had been relegated to sitting next to Uncle Severus who seemed quite uncomfortable being next to her. Lacie could hardly blame him. The fact that she was renowned for throwing food around was lingering over the Christmas dinner.

"You're too far away," Lacie snapped. After receiving a reproachful stare from their mother, Lacie hastily added, "I said that I'd already forgiven you."

Draco said something under his breath and after their mother said something in a low tone, which she couldn't hear, he reluctantly passed the bowl of peas. Lacie took it and added some sparingly on her plate.

"Peas, Uncle Sev?"

He shuddered, "No, thank you." It was in his typical intimidating voice and Lacie handed the bowl back to Draco to put it back in its original place.

Lacie and Draco glared at each other over their Christmas dinner. Lacie was incredibly annoyed with him. He didn't seem to know that he was in the wrong when it came to insulting her friend. Nor did he know the boundaries. He seemed to spew venom as they travelled home about her best friend, and what made it worse was that their father hadn't batted an eyelid. Their mother, had tried to get Draco to stop being so rude on a few occasions but to no avail. Her family were simply unsympathetic to her and her choice of friends. It was enough to make Lacie want to be sick.

She wished her family wasn't like this. She wished her family could understand. They never seemed to. She described her Gryffindor adventures to her mother, who seemed like she was forced to listen to her. Although she had wrote that she was accepting, it was clear to Lacie that somehow, her mother wished that she was describing times when she spent with a Slytherin pureblood, or half-blood at best, girl and how they chatted. It made Lacie want to roll her eyes to realise that her mother wanted her to be in the company of the likes of Pansy Parkinson. Lacie couldn't really imagine it despite having grown up with her. She never realised how disrespectful the girl was, and seeing as Lacie had learnt from a young age and trained in how to be respectful, she just couldn't get along with her.

Small conversation began at the table and her father reminisced about his younger years and how he had looked after Severus during their time at Hogwarts. In Slytherin. Lacie shook her head. Typical. Just typical. Lacie hadn't gone a single day where her father was reminding her of what she was missing by accepting that she was a Gryffindor.

For a moment, she could empathise with her mother's cousin, Sirius Black. It was equally as likely that his parents were just as dismissive of him. She could almost understand his desperation to align himself with the ultimate status symbol, one of the well-renowned Slytherins of all time, just to be accepted. She knew better than that. Her mother had trained her, that she had to adapt to any situation (with high society functions in mind, though, rather than being placed in a House deemed unfit for a Malfoy). She had adapted and she was enjoying.

"Can you please pass the gravy, Lacie?" Her mother cut through all the Slytherin talk. Lacie looked up and lifted the boat before handing it to her. Her mother looked concerned for her.

"Lacerta, tell me more about this Hermione Granger."

Lacie felt confused. It was the first time that her mother wanted to know about her Hogwarts life. Willingly.

"She's a brilliant witch. She's kind and she helps people with their homework and they always come back with full marks. She spends her free time in the library looking up the work we have to do and she's looking over second-year stuff because she can do most of the first-year stuff. She really is the cleverest witch.," Lacie said in a rushed voice. Draco snorted.

"She is hopeless on a broom."

"You're not an expert, or else, you'd be on the Quidditch team."

Draco flushed a deep shade of red. Their mother interrupted, "The _cleverest_ witch? Is that true Severus?"

He shifted almost imperceptibly and said, "The girl is an impertinent know-it-all, who seems to outdo everyone else in her year despite her... upbringing."

Lacie would have snarled at him for making the same judgement as everyone else did on Hermione because her parents just so happened to be Muggles. He had no right! His father was a Muggle-born too. He had told her so.

"How...interesting." Her father spoke with a bored voice. "Lacerta, how is it that a _Mudblood_ managed to accomplish so much in comparison to you?"

"Don't call her that," Lacie said standing up. She couldn't ignore the contempt in his voice, or the jibe. The last thing that she wanted was to be compared to Hermione. Compared to Hermione, she was the privileged one, the one born into Wizarding society and therefore should trump her in everything that they do. In reality, she hadn't. Hermione was just naturally talented and Lacie just paled in comparison.

"I will call her anything I want," her father retorted cutting into his turkey. "If you don't like it, then go to your room."

Lacie clenched her fist.

"Lucius, I would prefer it if you did not use that word," Uncle Severus said in a low voice. "It brings up memories of my own unfortunate upbringing."

Lucius looked at Uncle Sev and then looked at his own plate. "For you, Severus." He bit the head of a piece of asparagus off and ate it. "It is lovely to see some pull through their on their own. Others, it seems do not, even though they get all the help they could possibly want."

Lacie pushed her chair out. It made a horrible screeching noise. Everyone looked at her.

As custom, she placed her napkin on beside her plate and curtseyed a little. "If I may be excused."

"You may," her mother said. Lacie strode, gracefully but quickly. She heard her father say something about "running away from situations instead of confronting them" and she closed the door whilst her father said "disappointment".

Lacie ran from the dining room and across the atrium. Tears had already begun to fall as she rounded the corner towards the library on the East Wing of the house. She didn't know how to make her father simply _understand_. She had forced herself to train to _his _standard from the age of five. She knew as much as Harry or Ron or even, Draco, did in her schoolwork and she knew traditions and customs by rote. Yet, it wasn't enough for him.

She wiped a drop that was about to fall off her chin and stared at the dim sky. Lacie remembered Hermione speaking of acceptance in the first week and how she needed to work extra hard to gain it. She was gaining it, her ravenous appetite for knowledge and facts stood out to people and that was what she became known for, instead of being Muggle-born. Hardly people knew that she was, unless they asked, and they just assumed that because she knew so much, that there was no way that she came to school without any prior knowledge. Hermione often had to explain things to Harry, things that Lacie and Ron would have known because they knew it for a true fact, yet she was the only one who had only just been formally introduced to the fact a few months and she was explaining it like she knew it all her life.

Lacie, on the other hand, was a Malfoy. Everyone knew she was a Malfoy and that her father was a converted Death Eater. Everyone disliked Lacie because of her name. It was hard not to see why, she had been pompous brat and lost everyone House points. It was so typically Malfoyish that she was surprised that there people that she could call friends at Hogwarts. Her thoughts lingered on that for a moment.

She had friends, far away, and wouldn't see them for a long time. She desperately wanted to see them, even Ronald.

Well, right now, she was going to do something that Hermione probably wouldn't be able to do. She was going to find Nicholas Flamel. The library in the Manor was just as fruitful as the one at Hogwarts. If she locked herself in the library for the rest of the holidays she could probably find him.

She heard something tapping on the window beside her among the frost. It was a large brown owl and he was carrying a package.

Lacie froze.

_Who was sending her presents?_

Lacie took a while to open the window and let the owl in. As soon as it dropped the parcel it braced itself and flew off without any break. Lacie closed the window and watched the owl disappear. She eyed the parcel. It was neither large nor small. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. Hesitating, she opened it.

_Dear Lacie,_

_Merry Christmas! I hope you have a good time at the Manor! _

_Surprised that I would be sending you a present without an owl? I put this letter in Harry's care and he was supposed to post it with a Hogwarts owl on Christmas morning. Should you receive this at a later date, I will personally curse the boy. _

_I remember what you said about friends giving each other presents. If truth be told, I've never really given a present before, so pardon its fickleness. _

_Lots of love, Hermione_.

Lacie emptied the contents of the parcel and saw a simple bracelet with glass baubles hanging off the chain. She looked at the little tag that hung off it.

_Click your fingers_.

Lacie did so.

The glass baubles lit up brightly, like stars. Lacie stifled a gasp and it's simplicity but beauty. It was a like a circle of stars. Like a constellation. Like her name.

Lacie, for that moment, forgot about her father and cried because, no matter what, she could not be compared to Hermione Granger. She didn't want to. If she did, then if she were like her, she would not be able to be touched by the kindness that emanated from her.

* * *

><p>Hermione turned another page in her book whilst she sat out in the yacht. It seemed, that in his recent spare time, her father had learnt how to yacht. Since Hermione was not attending an elite (Muggle) boarding school, he had used the money he had saved up anticipating for it to buy himself a yacht. In the meantime, he was renting the one that they were floating in, in Monaco.<p>

Her mother sighed beside her. Sunlight was sparse and the wind was strong. However, nothing was going to stop her father from sailing out a few miles and forcing Hermione and her mother to sit beside him as he did it. Hermione was suffering a sprained ankle from skiing, an injury that was sustained during the last run of the trip. Her mother considered going home, forgoing Monaco, but Hermione insisted. It wasn't a serious injury and she was sure that by the time that she got back the swelling would go down, taking the pain with it.

"It's a lovely day out," her father commented, "have you seen a better sight, Mia?"

"There's a Giant Squid in the Black Lake at Hogwarts," Hermione said tonelessly, her eyes scanning the page. The alchemy book was really as interesting as she had anticipated it to be. It was almost like a science, and talked about how people could go around Transfiguration spell restrictions by producing gold. She was quickly reading through a theory that Rowena Ravenclaw being the mother of alchemy, and the theorist's suggestion that Hogwarts was and still is funded by the gold she produced.

"Really?

"Mm-hmm," Hermione nodded.

"Hermione, you're on holiday, you can save the homework until - ..."

"This isn't homework," Hermione said, looking up with wide eyes. "I'm just reading up on - ..."

"Tell me about your lessons," her mother interrupted.

"They're good."

"Would you like to elaborate on that?" she persisted.

Hermione shied away from her mother, holding her book so that it was a barrier from her and her questions, "I like my lessons."

"What do you do?"

"Magic."

Her mother groaned, "Charles. Tell her!"

"I don't see the problem," he said, concentrating on the sea in front of him. Hermione knew by the face he was pulling that he saw something wrong but was keeping it in.

"Of course you don't see the problem," her mother said, standing up but wobbling slightly due to the waves getting slightly more violent as they hit the yacht, "You can spot a cavity but you can't see that you're daughter is concealing something."

"Nance - ..."

"It was just like the last time, I knew something was wrong, but _you_ insisted that she was going through _change_..."

"How was I supposed to know that she was being - ..."

Hermione forced herself not to listen. She concentrated hard on the words that were in front of her, turning pages as soon as she finished a word so she could absorb herself into the book.

"No one thought that Lauren would - ..."

"You said that this holiday would - ..."

Hermione ignored what was being said. She didn't want to think that the holiday, the skiing, the trip to Monaco was because her parents felt guilty for what happened in the past.

"I wasn't like that when I was her age - ..."

Her mother had been loved by all of her friends. She wasn't an outcast who had a compulsion to answer questions that made her look desperate for attention. Even at forty-two, she retained a youthful appearance and this said a lot about her features when she was eleven. Hermione's grandmother often lamented about how she had never inherited her mother's looks. Hermione didn't mind, as long as she had her books.

By now, she was mentally saying each word in her head, screaming it so she wouldn't have to listen to her parents talk about her in front of her.

_**Nicolas Flamel**_

"What about him?" her father asked. Hermione looked up.

"What about who?"

"Nicolas Flamel," he said, looking slightly confused.

"Pardon?"

"You just said Nicolas Flamel, is he in that book of yours?" he asked.

Hermione noted the page and closed the book. "How do you know about Nicholas Flamel?"

He looked over to her mother and smiled at her. She raised an eyebrow and looked away with an embarrassed expression that was growing pinker by the second. "I was once punished to write an essay on '_The Obscurities of Alchemy_'" he answered. "Nicolas Flamel was an alchemist of the 14TH Century who was mentioned."

"What did he do?" Hermione's appetite for knowledge was whetted.

"Well, he allegedly made gold and silver from common metals like iron or lead."

Hermione didn't want to sound rude, so she bit her tongue from telling her father that she already knew that possibility. Seeing that she was not satisfied with his answer, he continued, "Stories say that he purchased a book with runes or arcane language that he managed to decode and from that, he had the recipe for the Philosopher's Stone."

"What's the Philosopher's Stone?" Hermione asked, her interest had really piqued now.

"It's the Holy Grail of the alchemy world, most alchemists of the time tried to find the perfect Stone in which to make gold and silver, you see, the better quality the stone, the better quality your gold was."

"And Flamel did it, with the Stone?"

Her father nodded, "Hypothetically, of course."

"Did he do anything else?" Hermione continued to question her father in a dogged way.

"Some say that he used the Elixir of Life to stay immortal, impossible though, seeing as he's buried somewhere in France."

"The Elixir of Life?"

"Another of the Stone's many uses," he explained, "Apparently, this Elixir would not only sustain your life if you kept drinking it but cure you of any malady that you had at the time. You could be dying, half alive and still live with the Elixir."

Hermione waited a moment before asking, "What other uses are there?"

He stared at her with a concerned look in his eyes, "Mia, you do know that this isn't real don't you? There isn't really a Philosopher's Stone, pumpkin."

Hermione shuddered at the pet name and said in a quiet voice, "I know. I just want to know."

"Well," her father said, concern ebbing in the edges of his voice, "You could make crystals like into precious stones like diamond or sapphire, or maybe a clone of yourself. You could make an eternal source of light or revive dead plants. By any standard, the Philosopher's Stone was a magical yet unobtainable goal. Remember that, Nicolas Flamel designed his own tombstone in 1410 and was buried there when he died. Had he truly drank the Elixir of Life, he would still be alive and still drinking it."

Hermione's mind ran through a million questions. Why had Flamel designed his own tombstone? After all, it was a slightly morbid idea. What if Flamel was still alive, and the tombstone was a cover up? What if, he used the Stone to create a clone of himself to be buried and stayed alive in the shadows all of these years. If he used the Stone, then the Stone _had_ to be real. Hadn't Hagrid said that it was between "Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel"? If Dumbledore knew Flamel, _still_, then Flamel had to be still alive. A wizard couldn't possible live up to 600 years, not without something as the _Elixir of Life_.

Hermione could say with a certainty that the Stone was real. What was more, Fluffy, as Hagrid had called it once, was helping to guard it. The Philosopher's Stone was in Hogwarts.

"I'm waiting for you to tell me that the Stone is in your school and Nicolas Flamel is really a wizard," her father said, jokingly.

Hermione wished she could tell him. She should have. Yet, he was so adamant that Flamel was dead that she couldn't bear to shatter another one of his ideals. When she was younger, he convinced her that magic wasn't real, even though things happened that felt like magic. When the summer came and the news broke with a portly witch, he seemed to question what was real for the entirety of the rest of the summer. Hermione didn't want to tell him that something else he believed in was a myth too.

"Like you said, dad, he was _only_ an alchemist."

He grinned at her and continued to sail, humming. Her mother rolled her eyes and lay on her back, trying to catch at least a few rays of sun.

If only he was just an alchemist.

X-x-x-x-x

When Hermione got back to the lodge, she noticed that an owl was perched on her bed. She recognised Adelais, who flew to her and dropped the parcel in her awaiting palms. Hermione let Adelais perch on her shoulder as she opened the letter.

_Dear Hermione, _

_Merry Christmas to you too! _

_Thank you for your beautiful gift. I will cherish it forever. This is from me to you, at Christmas. _

_You may notice there are two gifts, one for your birthday (which, next year, will come on the correct date) and one for Christmas. I do not know much about being a Muggle-born but as a Malfoy, we often give our friends a gift of importance when gift giving for the first time. _

_The bracelet is a special heirloom, of which, Malfoys give those whom they trust with their life. There are only three, as each one is made when a Malfoy heir is born. My father gave one to my mother. Draco still has his. I give mine to you, regardless of whom I may marry in the future. It is a bracelet that allows you to go into any Malfoy residence at will and you will know, intuitively where I am if you wear it. You are bonded to me, I hope that is alright with you._

_The second is a formal gift, a pair of earrings. I noticed that you had your ears pierced and these looked as if they would suit you._

_I know you may be thinking that I have given you expensive presents and you cannot hope to outdo it. However, I would rather have your present than ones bought with money. I wish I were as good at magic as you are. _

Hermione carefully opened the packages and smiled.

It was her first ever Christmas present from someone who wasn't her mother or her father.

* * *

><p><em>Haha, it was a cute ending :)<em>

_By the way, Hermione's father calls her Mia. In fact, both of them do - it's their nickname for her._

_My process of thinking for that nickname went as such: Hermione - Hermia - Mia. _

_Apologies for any confusion about that, haha. I can't think of really good nicknames for Hermione, aside from 'Mione, which is Ron's exclusive one. I used to know a girl called Hermione whom I called Monny, for some reason. (Tempted for Hermy, sosososo tempted but it's not ultra-feminine which is awky)._

_Becky x.  
><em>


	11. You Do Not Love Anyone, I

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

**I decided to split this chapter as well, haha, it was getting slightly hefty.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>She is enlarging a stone to wear around her neck.<br>Some nights in our bed her mouth snores at me coldly  
>or when she turns, her kisses walking out of the sea,<br>I think of the bad stories,  
>the monster and the wreck.<strong>

**Anne Sexton from **_**The Hangman**_

* * *

><p>"Your dad?"<p>

Hermione nodded.

"Isn't he a... Muggle?"

"What are you getting at, Ron?" Hermione asked, glaring at him over her alchemy book. She had just returned to Hogwarts and found Ron in the Common Room. It turned out that Lacie had returned a few days before her and she and Harry were eating dinner in the Great Hall. Hermione slammed the book onto the table next to Lacie, who was sitting at the very end of the table. Ron walked around the table to sit next to Harry who was sitting opposite her. They looked stunned at their arrival, and even more so, to find that Hermione was irritated at Ron.

Especially Lacie. It was normally Lacie who was annoyed at Ron.

"I wouldn't think that, well, isn't it against the rules to let Muggles know about wizards and magic?" Ron said in a hushed tone when they had both sat down.

"Considering my parents are Muggles, I think the rules are quite lenient," Hermione said. It wasn't as if she was being insulting to wizards informing someone of the loopholes in their own laws, but, it was something that bothered Hermione.

"I suppose."

Hermione looked over at Lacie who was sitting very straight and eating her food robotically. Harry was peering at her through his glasses, with wide green eyes.

"Are you alright?" Hermione nudged Lacie with her elbow.

"Oh, you've finished your conversation?" Lacie said stiffly. Her fork clattered on her empty plate.

"Can we not have a conversation now?" Ron snapped irritably, "are you going to get jealous just because she _spoke_ to me? I wasn't the one, for once, complaining about how hungry they were and dragged Harry to the Great Hall for dinner and leaving me behind to clean up after you."

Lacie responded by sniffing.

"I heard that Malfoy jealousy was legendary," Ron said, "I guess it's true."

"Shut up, Weaselbee."

"Can we not," Hermione said jumping into the conversation before Ron could reply, "as I was saying to Ron, I found out who our friend Flamel is, over the holidays."

"You told _him_, before me?" Lacie shrieked. Lavender Brown, who had been having an animated conversation with Parvati peered at them.

"Legendary," Ron whispered dramatically. Lacie jerked suddenly and Ron roared in pain. Hermione rolled her eyes. Leopards certainly didn't change their spots.

"Do you want to know, or not?" Hermione asked, drawing Lacie's attention back to her.

"Yes, but I'm not done with Weasley," Lacie said, reaching for a pie and placing it on her plate. The only function that it seemed to have was to be stabbed in her rage.

"Well, he is an alchemist from the 14TH century."

"Did you say, _is_, as in, he's still alive?" Lacie asked, picking up on her tense immediately.

"Yes, he's still alive."

"Impossible, he'd have to be about six hundred years old," Harry said, interrupting.

"I agree," Lacie said, "Wizards only live to about one to two hundred years at best."

A fork fell onto a plate with a loud clatter. Hermione, Ron and Lacie all looked at Harry.

"One to two _hundred_?" Harry asked, as if he didn't understand what Lacie had said.

"My great grandfather lived to two-hundred and four," Lacie said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Wizards have Potions therefore generally better health than Muggles. Haven't you noticed that you don't get as run down with illness as Muggles do? Even if you do, have you noticed that Muggle medicine has little to no effect on you? It's because we're adapted to not get ill and to be cured purely by potions, our immune system is simply engineered better and longevity is natural for us."

"How do I know that's true?"

"Have you ever gotten chicken pox?" Ron asked with a smirk.

Harry and Hermione both said, "No."

"It's because when we're born we're given a potion to stay immune from it, because it is one of the few illnesses that can addle with our magic."

"What about me? I was born in a Muggle hospital, to Muggle parents, how could they possibly know I was a witch?"

Lacie and Ron looked at each other. They exchanged a rare, secret smile. It was the smile that foreshadowed some kind of explanation that only people brought up with a Wizarding background would know.

"Sixteen inches," Ron said, raising an eyebrow.

Lacie groaned, "Two."

"Two?" Ron spluttered, "I suppose since you're a twin and George only got three..."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Magical babies don't cry when they're born," Ron said with a grin, "They float."

Harry choked on his food and coughed for a long time, when he had finished he asked in a trembling voice, "F-Float?"

"How on earth in a Muggle hospital, do you keep floating babies a secret?" Hermione whispered.

"The Ministry has a list of every baby that is born in the country, or about to be born..."

"There must be hundreds..."

"Muggleborns are rare," Lacie said in a low voice, "You don't know how unique you are. In our year alone there's probably only a handful of Muggleborns, which means only a few are born a year. That's easy to keep an eye on."

Hermione almost snorted at that. Hermione _wished _that Lacie's brother could appreciate how rare and unique she was.

"You're not implying that the Ministry has a supply of undercover doctors to monitor magical babies when they're born, are you?"

"Doctors?" Ron interrupted.

"A sort of Muggle Healer," Lacie whispered. Hermione already had this discussion with Lacie, so she was well aware of what a doctor was.

"The Ministry put a sort of enchantment on your Muggle parents to forget that you floated," Ron said, "It breaks when the same person who cast it comes to your house to tell you you're a witch. That's how your parents know that it's not a hoax."

There was a silence as they realised that the conversation had come to a halt. Ron filled his plate with most of the food that was in front of him. He steered away from the carrots as if they were the plague.

"What about Flamel?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Well, my dad was the one who seemed to know a lot about him," Hermione said.

"Your dad?" Harry asked, "Isn't he - ..."

Hermione held up a hand, stopping Harry from starting the same conversation as Ron had a few minutes ago.

"What did he do?" Lacie asked.

"According to my dad and this book," Hermione tapped the volume that she was leaning on, "Nicolas Flamel was the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone."

'The Philosopher's Stone' was said by all three of them. One was an exclamation and the other two were a question. Lacie looked a little disdainfully at the other side of the table, "Do you two not _read_?"

"You know about the Philosopher's Stone? How can you not know of Flamel?" Ron asked. Lacie blushed.

"I only read about it in passing, I didn't read about who made it," she whispered. Hermione turned to the page that had Flamel's name on it and handed it over to Ron and Harry. It took them several minutes to find the passage that she wanted them to read and then finally read it.

"So, that doesn't tell us how the Philosopher's Stone kept him alive for these years," Harry said.

"Read on."

"It makes you immortal?" Ron asked.

"It means you can't die," Lacie interjected.

"I know what it means!" Ron hissed.

"I think that," Hermione said loudly, stopping from another fight starting, "Fluffy is guarding the Stone."

"And Snape wants it," Harry said in surprise.

"How many times do I have to say that Professor Snape isn't a bad person - ..." Lacie said to no avail.

"For you," Ron said in a low voice, "Snape hates the rest of us, plus, you don't know what he's like when you're not there."

Lacie bit her lip. Hermione could tell that this wasn't going to go well. Lacie had mentioned to her once that Professor Snape had been present in her childhood. She'd known him. He was her "Uncle Sev" even though they weren't related. Hermione knew that if Lacie had a problem that she would probably go to Professor Snape first before considering Professor McGonagall. There was no shaking the resolution in her mind.

"No wonder Snape wants the Stone," Ron said after handing the book to Hermione and starting to eat, "Something that not only makes you insanely rich but keeps you alive, where can I get one?"

"You can't _get _one, you have to make one," Hermione said, "That's why Flamel is so famous in the Muggle community as well, because apparently he made one."

"I wouldn't want one," Lacie said.

"Of course, you wouldn't. You're so rich already that gold literally pours out of your ears," Ron said.

"Oh, and you're a redhead because your family are always in the red?" Lacie snapped, she took a deep breath as Ron narrowed his eyes at her and said in a somewhat calmer tone, "Imagine what it might feel like to be Flamel. You just made this Stone, that not only turns normal metals into precious ones but also it makes you live forever and everyone, not just Wizards, Muggles know about it too. How paranoid do you think Flamel must feel? People are going to want the Stone, so he has to protect it, but whom can he trust? So he moves around with his wife, trying to keep in the shadows, not daring to have children because it means that they'll have to settle somewhere and that's dangerous."

Hermione picked up on her train of thought, "He faked his own death, he planned to create a clone and put it in the grave. The Muggles would stop looking for him and the Stone but he'd have to ward off the wizards. So he puts it in the safest place in a foreign country."

"Gringotts," Harry said, "Except someone tried to steal it."

"Before that could happen, he went to one of the people he could truly trust, Dumbledore, to guard the Stone for him. After all, Dumbledore is a internationally famous Wizard after his defeat of Grindelwald and Flamel knows him already. Who else can he trust?" Lacie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"So Dumbledore put it in Hogwarts, and asked Hagrid to help," Harry said, becoming more animated as the conversation continued. "No one is going to get past Fluffy, not even Snape."

"I know how to get past Fluffy," Lacie whispered. She didn't seem conscious of having said it, like it was a passing thought that she had spoken out aloud.

"How?" Hermione, Ron and Harry asked, staring at her.

"I'm not saying," Lacie sniffed as she flushed a bright shade of pink, "you wouldn't believe me anyway and I promised my mother not to tell."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You choose _now_ to play the righteous role?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I've already lost hundreds of points for Gryffindor before, if it wasn't for Harry, we wouldn't be in the running for the House Cup. I don't want to ruin that by getting in a lot of trouble by going to the third-floor," Lacie said guiltily.

"It's because you don't believe that Snape did anything," Ron said.

"Ron, if she doesn't want to tell us, she doesn't have to," Hermione said defending Lacie. "Plus, I don't think Snape will do anything, right now."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Hermione didn't say anything, but she looked at the Staff table. Dumbledore was sitting there having a jovial conversation with Professors McGonagall and Sprout. Harry looked at ease for a moment.

"You have to tell us, some day," Harry said to Lacie.

Lacie blushed a little more and nodded, "When the time is right."

He grinned, pushed his glasses up his nose and stretched. He slapped Ron on the back whole-heartedly and said, "Come on, let's go to the Common Room and play some chess!"

Ron was then dragged from the Great Hall, still holding onto his plate and eating as much as he could off it. People stood up to watch, they shook their heads and sat back down.

Lacie squished her cold pie under her fork as Hermione drank pumpkin juice. She didn't say a word. Despite how much she said that she was going to miss Hermione, Hermione felt as if it had just been something she had said. Something she hadn't really meant. She probably had a great time at home with Draco over Christmas.

"How was... what was it called, sticking?" Lacie asked in a small voice.

"Skiing."

"Yes, that."

"It was fun, I sprained my ankle on the last run, though," Hermione said shrugging and reaching for some pasta.

Lacie jumped as though burnt, "Why didn't you say something sooner? Are you alright?"

"Ron saw me walking around on crutches before, so we decided to go to Madam Pomfrey before coming here to sort it out," Hermione said with a smile. Subconsciously she twisted her foot, testing her healed ankle under the table, "Everything's alright now."

"Crutches?"

"It's a special walking stick for people who have hurt their legs," Hermione explained.

Lacie continued to squash her pie. It made Hermione uneasy by watching her. There was something odd about the way that she was acting.

"How was your holiday?"

"Fine."

Hermione knew that type of tone. It was the tone that she used too often with her parents, when she was feeling upset but she didn't want to share it with other people. Hermione knew that if she had a friend that wanted to know about her problems she would have been a lot better off when it came to her problems.

"I know it wasn't fine, Lacie," Hermione said quietly, "what did your father say?"

She didn't answer. She just kept on flattening her pie with increased strength. Hermione bided her time, waiting for Lacie to ready herself to tell her.

"He called me a disappointment," Lacie said so quietly that Hermione had to strain herself to hear. She took a shaky breath and tried to smile, "They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'd rather be a disappointment to him than to my friends, to you."

Hermione smiled. "Exactly. Also, we need to catch up, I like listening to Professor Binns in History of Magic."

Lacie groaned, "But it's a perfect time to talk! He doesn't care if we listen or not, and if we don't talk behind his back we'll end up falling asleep."

"You will," Hermione reminded, "I've never fallen asleep."

"Well, you know what happens when I fall asleep, that utter prat, Weasley throws parchment Snitches at me, and sometimes, he puts water all over my notes to seem as if I drooled," Lacie complained, pushing away her plate. At that moment, the bracelet that Hermione had given her over Christmas slid down her thin wrist and into view.

Hermione didn't think that Lacie would _wear _it. It made Hermione feel an odd, happy feeling.

"You _do_ drool though," Hermione said jokingly, having been made slightly better by the appearance of Lacie wearing her homemade bracelet.

"I _do _not!"

"Do."

"Do not!"

They continued to have this argument as Hermione ate her dinner, and it carried on as they walked all the way to the Common Room. By the time they were watching the intense game of Wizard's chess between Harry and Ron, Lacie was her normal perky self.

That was Lacie. She was sometimes fickle and had little mood swings, but she was like a ball. She bounced back with twice the fervour. Hermione sometimes wished that she was like Lacie. If only she was as open and frank as Lacie, then she wouldn't have her share of being upset.

_What doesn't kill you makes you stronger._

Hermione didn't believe that. What didn't kill you, would leave a crack, and constant batterings would only intensify the pain.

* * *

><p>Draco, it seemed, had pushed the right button.<p>

Through a string of well orchestrated events, his sister finally came marching to his side during one dinner, with a face like thunder.

Since the start of the term, Lacie hadn't been the same. She had locked herself in the library for hours and refused to go out and play. She didn't want to fly on her broom, or want to read with him. She didn't want to explore or play in the snow. She didn't want to sleep in the same bed for Christmas Eve or open presents with him.

It was like she had completely changed during her time in Gryffindor. She didn't want anything to do with him anymore. She distrusted him, probably some mind-control that Hermione Granger employed, and wanted revenge on him. He didn't care that she had said that she had completely forgiven. Malfoys didn't forgive. They got their revenge. Lacie was an anti-Malfoy at the moment, but she was also a Gryffindor. Gryffindors held grudges, especially against Slytherins because they were so jealous of their superiority.

Only one Gryffindor was wrapped around his little finger so tightly that it hurt with pride. Neville Longbottom.

He had caught the blundering boy outside the library. Father had just taught him a special kind of curse that he really intended to test on Granger. However, he had pushed his luck already with Granger and didn't want to particularly want Lacie to practically strangle him. Any dignity that he had would evaporate the moment that he let a girl put a finger on him.

Draco stood up to welcome his sister.

He felt like throwing up when he saw the scarlet hairband in her hair.

"Why did you do it?" She snarled.

"Do what?" Draco asked innocently.

"You performed the Leg-Locker Curse on Neville, don't deny it, he said it was you," Lacie said, glaring at him.

"Since when was he _Neville_? You don't have a crush on him do you?"

"Since when was it your business?"

Draco chuckled, "Since when was it your business to question me? So I did a curse on him, big whoop!"

Lacie stumbled back. "When did you become like this?"

"I've always been like this, I've always made fun of those in a lower position to _us_," Draco hissed, watching her grow pale. "The thing is, you used to be like me too. Don't forget who suggested we steal the toad."

Lacie gritted her teeth. Draco had definitely provoked her. "Draco, don't push me."

"You're the one who changed, who told you to be so saintly? Potter? Granger?" Draco asked her, whispering in her ear.

"Mother, actually, it was part of my training to unite wizards together."

"Mudbloods don't count."

Lacie moved, and had Draco not known her so well, he wouldn't have been able to grab her arm and stop her from hitting him. He laughed. "You may have all the training behind you, but the family whom raised you are treating you with little care. Changeling."

Draco threw her arm away from him, as if it was suddenly something dirty. He pulled a face at her.

Lacie went red, "Mother - ..."

"Mother doesn't love you anymore, even if she does, she wouldn't put a toe out of Father's line," Draco smirked. He turned around and grabbed his goblet. He stood a sip from it. Lacie moved again, to lunge at him but Draco swung his goblet down, drenching her in the red beverage he was drinking. He laughed as the red stain grew bigger on her white shirt and how it stained her face.

It was a sign of how many people still resented Lacie for starting a food fight that lost them points when they started laughing at her, pointing at her and cat-calling at her. Draco felt a small twinge of sadness as she saw Lacie's steely Malfoy pride crumble and tears sprouted at the edge of her grey eyes. He filed that guilt away in the box that his father had told him to imagine. Malfoys didn't show emotions. Emotion was a weakness.

Father had taught Draco over the holidays. He was the son of whom he was proud. Draco was happy, Lacie didn't outshine him in his mother's eyes anymore. He was the true Malfoy heir. He taught Draco to distance himself from his sister, and that the fact she was already doing so to him was a blessing. He wanted Draco to not rely on his sister as much any more.

Nevertheless, Draco couldn't ever forget the burning image of his sister, close to tears, looking at him in utter disappointment. He had stabbed her in the back, his own twin, his baby sister. He had made the whole school stand up and laugh at her. He couldn't forget the look in her eyes that showed how much she wanted to cry. She looked at her feet and Draco swore that he could see something fall from her face and splash onto her shoe. He would never forget how he had made his sister cry, especially when she could easily make him cry but never took advantage of it. He heard a sniff and watched as she threw her head up, her shoulders back, and strode out as if she hadn't just been embarrassed.

She ignored the jibes made to her as she walked out of the Great Hall. She didn't sag under the pressure, nor did she lose her perfect posture.

From a distance, he saw someone run from the Great Hall, a ball of curly hair, running towards the doors. Hermione Granger. For once, Draco appreciated her friendship with his sister.

Draco sat down. Forced a smug grin. Forced a snicker. Forced to raise his hand to high-five everyone who wanted one.

_I hope I have been a good son, a son you've been proud of, now that I've sold out my own sister._

That night, Draco had a nightmare, waking up in a cold sweat. The image of Lacie staring at him, blaming him, haunted his mind and refused to disappear.

Then he imagined that trunk his father constantly spoke of. _It isn't about not feeling the emotions, Draco, it is about controlling them. Put them away. Ignore them. Don't fret over it. Emotions are like a candle, you can blow it out at will and relight them when you want. Blow your emotions away, son, when the time is right you can bring them back._

_When your sister has learnt to close her sympathies, you can show yours. As long as she remains guilty of the deepest sin against our kind, you must learn to be guiltless. _

Draco closed his tired eyes and imagined a slate with his problem carved into it. The time it took for him to scrub the slate clean, was enough for him to fall into an easy, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Sly Draco.<em>

_I was bored, so I decided to upload this chapter, as well. I'm busy next week, I think, so I will probably update this time next week-ish, but keep checking :)_

_I appreciate immensely the people who read this story :)_

_Becky x  
><em>


	12. You Do Not Love Anyone, II

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

**The second half of Chapter 8, as promised.**

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><p><strong>At first your mother said…why me! why me!<br>But she got over that. Now she enjoys  
>her dull daily care and her hectic bravery<strong>

**Anne Sexton from _The Hangman_**

* * *

><p>Lacie had changed. Hermione could tell. It was all her stupid brother's fault as well. Lacie didn't truly recover from being publicly embarrassed but she wasn't going to wallow in agony. Hermione knew Lacie was impeccable when it came to concealing her emotions. She was no longer defending her brother and was siding whole-heartedly with Ron when it came to insulting him now. She also didn't care about being a Malfoy and looked like she resented it. Sometimes, Hermione wondered what Malfoy had said to her, but it was a good thing. Ron and Lacie got on better. Almost too well.<p>

Except for when he beat her in chess. That was when she got irritated.

Harry was spending more time on the Quidditch Pitch than in the Common Room, so the pair playing chess was becoming a more frequent sight. It was usually these moments when Hermione preoccupied herself with schoolwork or general knowledge. She rarely peered up from her new volume, but it was definitely when there was an unjust checkmate.

Harry climbed through the Portrait Hole, looking as if he had been told to lick the mud off his Quidditch uniform.

Hermione dropped her book and looked at him in concern, "What's wrong?"

"Snape's refereeing the Quidditch match on tomorrow," Harry said with a sigh.

"But-But, he'll kill you!" Ron said, standing up and knocking over the chess board. Lacie hissed as she had just been planning a move.

"I was going to move something," she said angrily.

"I was going to checkmate you in three moves, anyway," Ron said dismissively to her before turning and saying to Harry, "don't play."

"If I don't play, then no one else can, I'm the only Seeker. We'd have to forfeit and there would be no way Gryffindor would take the lead if we forfeit," Harry said in a depressed voice.

"Harry, Snape won't hold back, it's not like I can fire a curse at him without people noticing like last time," Hermione said.

"Snape won't do anything!" Lacie said finally standing up, "he isn't like that."

"He knows, Lacie!" Harry exclaimed and saying in a quieter voice as people were looking at them, "Snape knows, don't ask me how, but he knows that we know about the Philosopher's Stone and that we're onto him."

Lacie laughed half-heartedly, "You mean Snape read your mind and found out?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying," Harry said, starting off unsure but growing more determined. "He read my mind."

"Absurd."

"You're absurd, Lacie, can't you see past your opinion of him and see what he's really like?" Harry asked, "He terrorises Neville, mocks me and my scar and Ron can't concentrate because of the insults the Snape says to him. Hermione gets called a know-it-all and that makes her sensitive, God knows why."

"I admit he favours - ..."

"Your brother, who by the way, made the _whole_ school laugh at you. Snape likes that type of person, maybe because, he's a stinking Slytherin like your brother!"

Harry stormed off. Lacie stared at his back and turned to the girl's dormitory and stomped her way up. Hermione looked at Ron, slightly open-mouthed. It was the first time that Hermione had seen Harry really lose control like that and snap at someone. It was the first time that Lacie had an argument with Harry – the first time that Harry had an argument with someone. Hermione had always expected it to be Ron.

When Hermione went to the dormitory, she saw Parvati, Lavender and Cheryl all giggling in their designated corner of the room. Lacie's bed was the only one that had its curtains drawn around it, separating her from everyone else. Hermione walked towards it, knowing that something was definitely wrong.

"Ooh, I wouldn't, Hermione," Parvati said. Hermione, as she always did, ignored her and opened the curtains. There was a frantic jolt of movement and Hermione saw Lacie cover her face with her pillow. Hermione ignored Lavender's warning too and climbed onto the bed.

Lacie had been crying. That much was obvious when Lacie looked at her. Her eyes were red, redder than when she had an argument with Draco and he'd called her a changeling and threw a drink at her.

"Harry doesn't mean what he said," Hermione said quietly, so the other three girls in the room couldn't overhear them.

"He's right, though," Lacie said, wiping her eyes, "Snape's a bully, like my brother. Draco was right, _I _was like him once, and I was the one who basically told Draco to take Neville's toad. I used to see Muggleborns as dirty blooded too, despite my mother telling me that all magical folk were equal and now it's coming back to me." She sobbed, "Oh, Hermione, why is everything that I believed in crashing around me?"

Hermione leaned forward. She didn't mind that Lacie had admitted to once being prejudiced. She remembered the first time that she had met Lacie and how she had defended her from her brother and had apologised the moment she saw how upset Hermione was. She wrapped her arms around Lacie. It was in the past. All of it.

"Lacie, you're just _seeing_," Hermione said. "It's not that Snape is a bully, well, he is, but he's your Uncle Severus too. Draco's always been a bully and I know it's hard to accept that he wants to make you one of his victims too but it doesn't mean they've changed. It just means you've seen a new side to them that you're not used too."

"How come you haven't changed?" Lacie sniffed.

Hermione laughed awkwardly, "I have nothing to change into."

Lacie looked at her and considered her, she opened her mouth but closed it. Instead of saying something, she reached for Hermione and hugged her. "You're the only one I need, Hermione. You're so strong."

Lacie didn't let go, and after a while she had fallen asleep. Hermione had grown steadily wearier as she listened to the sounds of Lacie's breathing and fell asleep too.

The next morning, Hermione found herself strewn between sheets on a bed that wasn't hers. She looked around groggily and realised that she must have fallen asleep on Lacie's bed. She clambered out of bed and saw that the dormitory was empty. Sunlight was streaming in through the normally closed curtains. Stretching, Hermione yawned and slid off the bed. Her eyes lazily glided over the clock that hung next to Lavender's bed. She stopped. For a second she thought that the clock said that it was half-past twelve. She looked at the clock and jumped. It _was _half-past twelve! The Quidditch match was about to start in half-an-hour, and she hadn't thought of _anything_ to help against Snape who was sure to make Harry suffer a fifty-foot dive.

Hermione could imagine it and there was nothing Hermione could do to distract him. She couldn't exactly shoot a spell across the pitch at him, especially if he was on the opposite end. What if she hit a Gryffindor team member?

She wrung her hands, shaking them out until it hurt.

A scream made Hermione scream and jump out of her skin. Hermione looked at the person who had screamed first.

"Lacie? Why aren't you at the Quidditch Pitch?" Hermione asked, her heart calming itself down from the fright that she had just put it through.

"Why aren't you at the Quidditch Pitch?" she countered.

"I just woke up, why didn't you wake me up?" Hermione demanded to know.

Lacie looked at her feet and didn't answer. She shifted her weight around, from one leg to another. Hermione narrowed her eyes and actually looked at Lacie. She was wearing her school robes tightly around her, pale skin-coloured tights, grey leg-warmers and her school shoes. Lacie had never worn that combination in her life,

Hermione snickered, "What on earth are you wearing?"

Lacie rolled her eyes and threw something by her trunk. Hermione took a look at what it was. _Ballet shoes_.

"What - ..." Hermione looked up at Lacie and took a step back. Her friend was dressed in a pale blue leotard that was covered from the waist down by a sheer, flowing pale blue skirt.

"You do ballet?" Hermione asked a little hoarse.

Lacie sighed, "Yes."

"Since wh - ..."

"Since I was three," Lacie interrupted, walking into the dormitory towards her bed, "Mother wanted me to continue with lessons when I came to Hogwarts, so every morning I wake at half-past five and train from six o'clock to eight o'clock on schooldays and on weekends I dance until twelve o'clock."

"Why - ..."

"I never told you because you never asked," Lacie replied curtly, "I-I wanted to keep this a secret."

Hermione crossed her arms, "Obviously, since you've been sneaking around doing ballet behind everyone's back."

"Everyone has secrets, even you do," Lacie snapped.

"What's come over you?" Hermione asked, uncrossing her arms and walking to her friend.

"Who is Lauren? Is she your best friend in the Muggle world you live in?" Lacie asked through gritted teeth.

"How do you know about Lauren?" Hermione asked, everything froze in her and she took a step back.

"You were muttering her name in your sleep and twitching, what, do you miss her?" Lacie spat pushing past Hermione to her bed.

"L-Lauren is not my best friend," Hermione said after a moment, _why was Lauren's ghost haunting her even so far away?_ "She was someone I knew."

"She obviously was important," Lacie sniffed. Lacie was playing with the bracelet that Hermione had given her at Christmas.

Ron was right. Malfoy jealousy was legendary.

"Not as important as you," Hermione said, walking to Lacie and leaning on one of her bedposts.

"You say that now," Lacie said, deciding to light up the bracelet unnecessarily and to turn the lights off.

"If you are my best friend that I know you are, then you should know that Lauren Fullkomna is not my best friend, nor is she important to me anymore," Hermione said, "Trust me."

Hermione knew that she had won Lacie over when she pulled the bracelet onto her wrist. Hermione smiled at her, slightly relieved.

"Do you know that I was worrying so much over how much you prefer this Lauren person that I couldn't concentrate on my steps? I couldn't pirouette properly and Miss Belle-Faire threatened to not let me do en pointe until fourth year," Lacie said pouting.

"En pointe?" Hermione asked in a confused tone.

"The dream of every aspiring ballet student!" Lacie exclaimed, throwing her white school blouse over her leotard and buttoning it up, "dancing on your toes."

"I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Don't be sorry!" Lacie laughed with a wide grin, "but I am relieved that I'm still the most important person!"

Hermione shook her head and looked at the time. Twelve forty-five! Hermione still hadn't found something to distract Snape. She guessed that she was probably going to have to throw herself on the pitch to distract everyone, even Snape. She really didn't want to visit the Hospital Wing _again_. She changed out of her slept-in uniform and threw it onto her bed. Someone was probably going to take it to wash today if she left it on the bed. She rooted through her trunk and found something that she hadn't thought would be in the trunk.

_Well, I think I know how I'm going to break Snape's eye contact._

X-x-x-x-x

"What on earth is that?" Lacie asked as Hermione pulled it out of her pocket at the stands. She had arrived with Lacie just as the captains of each respective team were shaking hands.

"A slingshot," Hermione grinned. Ron took it from her fingers.

"I never thought this of you, Hermione Granger," Ron said admiring the elasticity of it. He pulled it back, and pretended to aim at Snape.

"I'm not all about reading books, you know," Hermione rolled her eyes, "I've been told that I can fire a slingshot better than any other person, bar David, of course."

The David and Goliath reference was lost on Lacie and Ron. Hermione rolled eyes and took the slingshot back from Ron and slipped it in the waistband of her skirt next to her wand. If her slingshot skills failed on her, she had also learnt the Leg-Locker Curse, getting the idea from Draco Malfoy.

The same person was strolling towards Hermione, Lacie and Ron. This earned another eye-roll from Hermione. Hermione looked away from Malfoy to concentrate on the match.

"Finally admitted that Gryffindor have a better Quidditch team?" Lacie asked loftily, "unable to support your terrible House team?"

"Hardly," Malfoy retorted just as airily. "The Gryffindor team are so pitiful."

"How?" Ron asked, distractedly, Snape had just flown in front of Harry, a move that almost knocked Harry off his broom but also stopped him from following something glittering. There was a cheer of 'boos' from the Gryffindors. Ron roared at Snape, demanding him to be removed and called him a handful of names that was lost to the Gryffindor ire.

Fred and George Weasley had gone complaining to Snape and as a result, Hufflepuff were awarded a penalty, causing more boos. Hermione was so focused on the match that it took Neville's shove for Hermione to look away.

"What?"

Neville's words were lost on Hermione as the Gryffindors booed Snape once more for giving Hufflepuff a free pass. Instead, he pointed over at the teacher's stand.

_Dumbledore_.

There was no way that Snape was going to jinx Harry after all! Hermione sat down in her seat, but she was the only one who did. Neville, who had been seated next to her, was no longer there and Ron was rolling on top of Malfoy. Lacie was trying to pull Ron off him. Neville was challenging both Crabbe and Goyle, who were both taller than he was and looked more terrifying.

"He isn't worth the detention!" Lacie kept shouting. Everyone else was more interested in the match, with the occasional insult towards Snape. Hermione pulled her wand and said the first spell that came into her mind, not caring which one she hit. Ron's legs forced themselves together and he rolled to the side. Lacie fell on top of him. Malfoy scrambled from underneath Ron sporting a bloody lip. He stood up awkwardly, brushed himself off and chuckled.

"Granger you missed!" he laughed at Hermione, "you missed me!"

"I won't!" Lacie said aloud as she pointed her wand directly at Draco.

"You wouldn't dare," Draco said through gritted teeth. "I'll tell Mother and she'll really hate you then!"

Lacie kept her wand pointed at him for a moment before dropping her arm. She pointed at Ron and performed the counter-curse to the Leg-Locker Curse that Hermione had put on him. Once Ron was able to move, he jumped to his feet and was ready to pounce on Draco. Lacie held him back, raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. Draco snickered in a smug manner and pulled on the lapels of his robes and nudged Crabbe and Goyle, who were in the process of lifting Neville up by his robes.

There was a small clapping noise. Hermione looked across at Lacie who had started clapping in a rhythmic manner.

"_Draco Malfoy is a wimp,  
>He goes running to his mum.<br>Draco Malfoy is a coward,  
>Maybe because he's too dumb"<em>

Lacie continued her chant and after a while, Ron joined in. Surrounding Gryffindors heard the chant, and the message that was spreading by it. As most of them disliked Malfoys, they joined in for the fun of it. Soon, most people who didn't know what was going on were clapping along to it.

Draco was getting redder and redder with every repetition of the verse. The clapping, the chanting, the laughing and pointing made it worse.

_The laughing and the pointing_.

Hermione remembered this exact scenario. The laughing and the pointing. Her cheeks flushed. Her breath grew shallower. She wanted it to stop! It needed to stop! She rushed towards Lacie and pulled on her arms, stopping her from leading the clapping.

"Enough, Lacie."

Lacie laughed, "Don't defend him, Hermione."

"I'm _not_, but this isn't funny anymore," Hermione said, "Remember what it was like to have people laughing at you?"

"This is why I'm doing it, I want him to feel the same, an eye for an eye, Hermione," Lacie said, trying hard to clap along despite Hermione holding her wrists apart.

"You're not like your brother, remember?" Hermione said.

Lacie paused and her arms stopped resisting. She gave Hermione a dirty look and pulled her hands out of Hermione's arms. With one final resentful look at her brother, she turned around and tried to stop the people chanting. She wasn't trying hard enough as she was laughing along with the people, and finally, when Harry caught the Snitch, the chant was clapping was engulfed by the cheers of the Gryffindors.

"I would thank Hermione," Hermione heard Lacie say as the Gryffindors ran from the stands to get on the pitch to cheer Harry.

"I didn't need her help," Draco spat.

Lacie gave him a contemptuous look and turned away, pulled Ron with her as she went with the other Gryffindors to the pitch to cheer Harry for catching the Snitch. It was possibly one of the quickest catches of all Quidditch matches, and it had come at the right time too. Neville was nursing a black eye but he stumbled over to the pitch. Soon, Hermione was the only Gryffindor left to celebrate Gryffindor's victory, and the fact that they have surpassed Slytherin in the race to the House Cup.

Hermione walked to the steps that were past Draco. She was intending to ignore him, seeing as he had not really needed her help, however, he never seemed to want to let her ignore him.

"I didn't need your help," Draco sniffed as she passed him.

"Of course you didn't," Hermione said angrily, "it would taint your reputation to have a Muggle-born help you."

"I - ..." Draco started but Hermione had started to walk away, "I'm glad Lacie has a friend like you."

Hermione stopped and looked back at him, she looked at the empty stands and opened her mouth slightly. She wanted to say something back but he probably wouldn't listen to her.

Hermione turned away, with a small smirk.

It wasn't every day that she got a compliment from someone, especially Draco Malfoy.

* * *

><p><em>To resolve confusion, Narcissa doesn't hate Lacie, nor is she shunning Lacie from the family. Lucius, is merely putting words into Draco's mouth to try and get Lacie 'back' from being too Gryffindor-ish shall I say.<em>

_Love, Becky._


	13. And Should I Torment You For That?

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: And Should I Torment You For That?<strong>

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><p><strong>I sang her out. I caught her down.<br>I stamped her out with a song.  
>There was no other apartment for it.<br>There was no other chamber for it.**

**Anne Sexton from **_**The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts**_

* * *

><p>"I think that this is silly," Lacie said, not looking Hermione in the eye. They were both hovering near the ground during their final Flying lesson and Hermione still hadn't worked up the courage to zoom around the courtyard like many of her peers. Hermione knew that Lacie could fly higher, possibly with Ron and Harry who were practising (unofficially) for the next match with a series of rolls and daring swoops across the courtyard, but she didn't. She hovered in contentment, the tips of her toes just about touching the ground, as if she were dancing en pointe, as she expressed so many times.<p>

"Harry _heard _Snape," Hermione persisted.

"Harry heard what he wanted to hear that Professor Snape was the bad guy in the situation," Lacie said. She shook out her blonde hair that she'd pinned on top of her head in a neat bun. "It's speculation, you don't have proof that Professor Snape wants the Stone, or is trying to steal it."

"There's no proof that he isn't trying to steal the Stone," Hermione countered.

Lacie sniffed, "Well, it's nice that Weasley is being kind for a change, I heard what he said to those third-years for teasing Professor Quirrell about his stutter. That was nice of him."

"I'm touched," Ron hovered next to her.

Lacie flicked her hair behind her shoulder and raised an eyebrow, "How touched would you be if I knocked you off your broom?"

"You wouldn't dare."

Lacie gripped the handle of her broom and flew straight at Ron before pulling up into a steep ascent. Had she been a second too late, she would have collided into Ron but the fear of her doing so forced him to roll out of the way on onto the ground. Without even touching him, she had effectively knocked him off his broom and was zooming around Harry, flying circles around him. Ron joined in but avoided Lacie as much as he could, much to Lacie's glee.

Hermione sighed.

"Jealous?"

Hermione glared at the person who was hovering next to her.

"Hardly."

"I could teach you," he snickered. Was Draco Malfoy anything ever less than slightly arrogant?

"You're not that good."

"Of course, no one is as good as _Potter_." He spat the name as if it was venom in his mouth.

"Jealous?" Hermione asked, smirking as Harry outflew Lacie above them.

"Hardly."

"I'm not a fan of flying," Hermione said. She touched the broom handle and it jerked violently. Malfoy laughed so hard that tears fell. Hermione scoffed, thinking of a good jinx that would wipe the laugh from his lips.

"I know," he said, after sobering, "you spend every lesson on the ground with Lacie."

Hermione watched as he blushed and looked away, "Sometimes it isn't your fault you can't fly, sometimes it's the temperament of the broom."

"The _temperament_ of the broom?"

"Broom's grow attached to the first person who fly them, once abandoned like Hogwarts, they either form new attachments or ignores whatever the new flier wants them to do," Malfoy said, "Brooms like people who have had experience with brooms or family members who had previously flown them."

"Are you trying to hint at something?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"If you ever want a lesson..." Malfoy suggested, drifting away.

"I'll ask _Potter,_ thank you."

Malfoy flew off as gracefully as he could. Hermione didn't know what it was about Malfoys but they seemed to do everything with as much elegance as they could muster, even if it didn't matter to be elegant. Lacie seemed to ooze that very thing as she sank next to Hermione.

"What did my brother want?"

Hermione didn't want to keep secrets but she didn't want to exactly tell Lacie that her brother had done something nice and offered her flying lessons. It was slightly conceited but Hermione knew that Malfoy would deny it as soon as it was mentioned. He was probably joking around anyway, seeing that it was something that Malfoy would typically do.

"The usual, reminding me that I'm far less superior than he is," Hermione sighed, "Old news."

"You seem to be the only one to put up with Draco, even though he bullies you," Lacie said.

Hermione froze a little but laughed it off.

"Well, he won't be doing much more of that once the results of the exams come out," Hermione smirked. It was arrogant to think that she would automatically beat Malfoy in every upcoming exam to an astronomical amount, but she couldn't help it. If she was to beat him in every exam she would savour the feeling and use it as evidence that she was better than him in a very important aspect. If she didn't... she didn't dare think of it. She didn't believe it would happen. She _needed_ to beat Malfoy.

She was going to have to spend every waking moment in the library and studying until her frizzy hair was filled with revision.

"If you do, I will never hear the end of it for the entire summer," Lacie said, rolling her eyes, "_she doesn't know who's she's trifling with, that-that-that Mudblood know-it-all_..." Lacie paused, her perfect imitation of Malfoy was left hanging as she realised what she had said due to the heat of the moment. She added a, "sorry."

Hermione pretended to ignore it. She kept smiling and complimented Lacie's impression like a good friend would.

Like a good friend would, Hermione noticed that Lacie looked uneasy and opened her mouth before shutting it, before opening it again, "Why...?"

Just at that moment, Madam Hooch blew her whistle quite loudly signalling the end of the (not very) productive and final Flying lesson. Most people, including Lacie, groaned and tried to barter a few more minutes on the broomsticks as not all of them were Harry Potter and had a Nimbus Two Thousand at the ready. Others, like Hermione and Neville Longbottom, jumped off their brooms and hastily handed them over to Madam Hooch, relieved to be parted from such a dreadful method of transportation and leisure. Madam Hooch was adamant and instructed all the brooms to fly down _at once_. It was amusing to watch, from the ground, the horrified faces of the pupils grabbing on the handles as the brooms dropped against their will.

"Old sod," Lacie muttered under her breath as they returned to the castle.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You can bring in brooms next year."

"_Yes,_ but you have to book the pitch for leisurely flying time which is impossible because of the Quidditch matches and _no one _is leaving any time soon on the Gryffindor Team," Lacie complained.

"Then you can play the sports that the Hogwarts Sports Hall has to offer," Hermione said with a grin. She couldn't wait until second-year when compulsory Flying lessons were no longer on the timetable, but rather, the overlooked world of Wizarding Sports that influenced many Muggle Sports.

"Tennis is boring, as is badminton," Lacie said dismissively, "Quidditch on the other hand..."

"...is dangerous." Hermione added, in her opinion, appropriately.

"Hermione, you have no sense of fun," Lacie said.

"I _can _be fun," Hermione said but this was met by scoffs from Ron and Harry who had somehow sidled up behind her. Ron threw his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"The day you're _fun_ or willing to break rules, is the day that I will eat my sock," Ron said with a longing sigh.

Hermione jerked under Ron's arm and violently shrugged to get his arm off her, "As heartily as I would like to see you eat your own sock, Weasley, I have better things to do than break rules and have fun but, be my guest."

"Better things to do? Like what?"

"_Study_," Hermione said in an emphasised tone to the three standing around her. "Exams are coming soon and - ..."

Immediately there was protest.

"It's ten weeks away - !"

"You're the cleverest witch in the year, you don't need to - ..."

"It's ten weeks away - !"

"Just because _Draco_ wound you up - ..."

"It's _ten_ weeks away - !"

"What don't you know?"

"You have _plenty _of time!"

Hermione groaned, "Look, we need to pass these exams in order to get into second year, I don't want to be the only one in the year redoing First Year because I don't know that Devil's Snare hates the sunlight."

"Moonlight," Lacie corrected.

"No - ..." Hermione said but stopped, shaking her head, she rushed off to the library to see if Lacie was right.

x-x-x-x-x

Ron turned onto Lacie and pulled a face, "Have we ever studied Devil's Snare?"

Shaking her head, she muttered, "That girl is so gullible." She then walked off in the same direction that Hermione had walked just seconds before.

Harry nudged Ron, "Have we?"

Ron looked at Harry, "I think they've made that up to get rid of us. I can take a hint."

* * *

><p>Hermione knew that the tranquillity around her wouldn't last long. She was surprised that it had even happened for the temporary time that it had. Ron and Lacie were content with revising for the exams as Ron wanted to outdo Malfoy in every exam and Lacie wanted to outdo everyone, except Hermione, to prove that she was more than just a Malfoy heir. On the other hand, Harry hated peace. Despised it. He wanted trouble or something to relieve his belief that Snape was up to something.<p>

Hermione knew that Snape was _up to no good_. But then, was he really? Lacie was adamant that he wasn't. Maybe he was just misunderstood and Harry, Hermione and Ron thought he was up to something because he was such a stubborn teacher who favoured his own bad-reputation House.

Hermione didn't know how to break it to him. She wanted to tell him that maybe Snape was protecting the Stone like Hagrid said he was. Snape could be planning all sorts of gruesome questions for their exams and was too busy doing that to consider stealing the Philosopher's Stone. Even so, Snape was a madman to consider the notion with Dumbledore around and Quirrell seeming to stand up for himself more these days, Harry didn't have anything to worry about.

Of course, that idea was silly. Harry was a worrier.

His latest problem was in the form of a close friend. Ron and Hermione were reciting the Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood, as discovered by their infamous Headmaster, when Harry and Lacie approached the table. Lacie was wearing a silly grin and Harry looked pensive, an expression that Hermione dreaded seeing on his face.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, staring hard at the words in front of her. They wiggled about on the page, daring to leap off. She willed them not to. She needed a distraction.

"Good news or bad news?" Lacie asked as a buffer. Hermione didn't look up. She scribbled something uncharacteristically illegible on a scrap of parchment, acting as if she was indifferent to the news despite the type it may be.

"Bad news," Ron said. He took Hermione's silence as a signal to get the worse over with it.

"Hagrid," Harry said loudly but there was a hissing noise, no doubt, from Lacie. In a much quieter voice Harry continued, "We saw him outside the library and he looked shifty, so we followed behind him and peeked into his Hut - …"

"You will _not_ believe it," Lacie gushed quietly.

"What is it?"

Hermione tried very hard not to listen to what Harry was going to say but she was a fool for information.

"Hagrid has a dragon."

"A WHAT?" Hermione shouted, unsure that she had heard Harry correctly. Harry and Lacie shushed her as Madam Pince appeared behind a bookshelf to give Hermione a very dirty look. Hermione apologised to the strict librarian and watched her hide herself behind a bookshelf.

"I saw it," Lacie said proudly, "Definitely a… _reptile_ friend."

"But-But, they're illegal," Ron said. "Even _you_ should know that." He looked pointedly at Lacie. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course I know, that's why that was the bad news," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Hermione made an exasperated sound that caused the librarian to sneak back and give another look. Hermione scrambled and collected her things, putting them in a disorganised pile. The four then shuffled out of the library to continue speaking without there being a volume restriction.

After a moment where Lacie had given a detailed description of what she and Harry had found out, Hermione turned to her, causing Ron to bump into her and knock several pieces of parchment from the pile that she was carrying.

"What was the good news?" Hermione asked shrewdly.

"The dragon is a _Norwegian Ridgeback_, they're rare!"

Hermione felt like walking into the nearest wall but settled for a large internal frustrated sigh that was neither helpful nor relieving.

Hermione didn't understand it. What was the attractiveness of trouble itself? Why did Harry have to make trouble for himself? He and Ron were speaking of a renegade mission to try and convince him to get rid of the illegal dragon, a mission that would probably cause more problems than solve them. Hermione wished that for a moment that Harry would _think _about the consequences. Lacie had already lost Gryffindor points and Harry had only just pulled Gryffindors into a victory that they had anticipated for seven years. The point difference was incredibly close, and Heroic Harry would soon become Hated Harry if he was caught smuggling a dragon or caught trying to and lost points.

Lacie was no better than Harry and Ron. She was encouraging the mission, suggesting contacts that they could possibly send it to if they managed to convince Hagrid to get rid of it ("Hagrid has always wanted a dragon, it's not going to be easy to try and make him get rid of it"). She described to an envious Ron the exact shade and size of the egg ("deeper than midnight black about the size of a Diricrawl egg"). When Hermione tried to change the focus of the conversation, to get them away from doing something that they would regret, Lacie was the one to give her a funny look and continue on as if she hadn't said anything.

Hermione didn't make it a secret how much she disapproved with their fascination. She refused outright to visit the dragon, or help with it, or even talk about it. The others knew that they were on tenterhooks with her for going on with whatever they were doing. Whenever Hermione approached, they stopped talking about the dragon as they knew that they would get a ten-minute tirade at how inappropriate they were acting and how Hermione had half a mind to write to their parents about what they were doing.

The threat only lasted as long as it took for Harry to remind her that he didn't have parents, in a tight voice, and his living relatives would like the idea of Harry getting killed by a dragon and would have a party to celebrate.

At night, when Parvati, Lavender and Cheryl where giggling themselves to sleep or gossiping in their corner of the dormitory, Lacie crept into Hermione's bed. Hermione's bed had become her special learning area and Lacie had to sit carefully at the edge as to not crinkle any of Hermione's obsessively precise revision notes. It was these moments where Lacie tried to convince Hermione that she was doing the right thing for Hagrid. Hagrid was a nice person and Lacie didn't have the heart to see him being put in Azkaban by people like her father. Lacie thought that Hermione would understand, Lacie thought that Hermione would at least see what Hagrid was going through and help them realise that a dragon in a wooden hut was a bad idea. Hagrid had helped them settle in Hogwarts, hadn't he? It was the least Hermione could do. Hermione replied by telling Lacie to change the subject or get off her bed. She also reminded Lacie that Hagrid would probably also appreciate her staying away to stay out of trouble and having a couple of first-years with him all the time was definitely going to raise suspicions. Hermione didn't want Hagrid to get into trouble, but she didn't want to get _involved_. Lacie took this in with a small smile and talked a little about her ballet. Hermione was always intrigued with her ballet and actually stopped revising to listen.

Lacie wanted her to watch her practise. She was going to start the preliminary exercises needed in order to dance en pointe and she wanted Hermione's social support as she began the excruciating process of coping to dance on her toes. A doctor had rigorously put her feet through a series of tests to show that she was ready. Now, she had to do some special sort of training to make sure that her tendons where up to the strenuous pressure that they needed to be under to dance.

However, this was not to be, as Miss Belle-Faire told Lacie that all lessons where to be suspended as she had been hired to choreograph the May Pole dance, something that Lacie was too young for.

Hermione didn't know which one of those factors was the cause for their dormitory to look like a bomb site when Hermione returned from the library. She knew that there was going to be a problem when she saw Parvati holding a timid Cheryl and Lavender telling Seamus and Dean about something with the dramatics, fluttering her eyelashes and using a meek voice.

Cheryl saw Hermione enter the Common Room and called for her, and told her that, "Malfoy's gone mad."

Rolling her eyes and expecting the least, she said, "I bet it's nothing really."

"If you go to our dormitory she'll bite your head off."

Hermione smirked with some sort of self-satisfaction, "You're not her best friend."

With a spring in her step, she skipped all the way to the dormitory and peered around the door. She got a face full of shredded silk and there was banging deeper into the dormitory. Hermione pulled the cloth off her face and saw it was a piece of a very expensive leotard. Around their dormitory there were dozens of shredded garments and at the centre, was a blonde tornado who was screeching and pulling ballet outfits.

"I quit! I quit! I quit!"

Hermione coughed and Lacie spun around, ready to pounce on the intruder. Lacie growled at her and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"A lady does not _growl_, it is most animalistic," Hermione said in nasal voice, which she associated with old ladies who had high tea in _John Lewis_.

"I quit being a lady! That's it! I don't want to do anymore of this! I don't want to be a lady!"

"Well, you can't exactly be a boy can you?"

Lacie blushed, "Well, no, but..."

"What's wrong?" Hermione sighed, picking up as many pieces of a pretty looking ballet leotard as she could on her way in.

"Nothing's wrong," Lacie snapped, "I just can't stick ballet anymore."

"What happened to...being an aspiring ballet student?" Hermione asked carefully.

"I refuse to aspire if they refuse to let me do _anything_. Do you know that every year, two girls from each House are chosen to dance around the May Pole and they do a ballet show beforehand? I asked to be in it and they told me I was far too young, even though those other girls can't dance to save their life," Lacie said angrily her hands gesticulating wildly in her anger.

Hermione snickered.

"Don't you dare laugh!"

Hermione walked over to Lacie and threw an arm over her shoulder, which she tried to shrug off.

"Aren't you overreacting?" Hermione asked softly.

"No!"

"Well, if you quit, you won't be able to do it next year, if you're still too young, you can practise for the year after. I've never known you to be a quitter, Lacie-Lace."

She flinched at the nickname. Hermione didn't know what overcame her to actually say it. They both stood there like mutes, one friend not knowing what to say to the other.

"You're right. I'm not a quitter, Malfoy's do not quit."

Hermione did not want to point out that most people had a fighting spirit and didn't quit, but she didn't want to further annoy Lacie. Together, they restored the room and using magic, they repaired every single one of Lacie's leotards. Hermione folded them, stroking them as she went, and packed them delicately between protective layers of tissue paper into Lacie's trunk. She envied their beauty and their subtle ostentatiousness. A part of her wished that she could be able to dance in one of these, but she realised that she would look stupid as she didn't possess an ounce of the grace that Lacie had.

When Parvati was pushed into the dormitory, Lacie looked like an angel who had been dropped from heaven, as opposed to an angry storm cloud. Hermione stood by the curtains and looked like the cat that got the cream. Lacie brushed her golden hair with a silver brush and smiled at Parvati.

Parvati's mouth fell open.

"Penny?" Lacie said to her.

"Pardon?" Parvati looked stunned as Lacie spoke to her, as Lacie wouldn't have given her time of day to Parvati, especially as the girl had accused Lacie of marrying her brother.

Lacie sighed dramatically, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Parvati blushed and said, "Nothing." She rushed out without haste, probably to tell her friends that it was safe to go into their dormitory.

"If it were really nothing, I would go bald," Lacie rolled her eyes.

"Parvati often thinks of nothing," Hermione said walking towards her bed, "Aside from gossip, there is little that she could think of." Hermione reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. She threw them at Lacie. "Start cutting."

Lacie pulled a face and caught it as if it was a Golden Snitch. She threw them onto her bed and continued to make sure that there were no tangles in her perfect hair.

"You're in a pleasant mood today," Lacie said once her hair lay straight.

"It's nothing."

"If it were really nothing, I would go bald," Lacie repeated.

"I was thinking of your brother, start cutting," Hermione grinned, there was a twinkle in her eye. Lacie's mouth formed a small 'O' at the implication of her words.

"My brother?" Lacie shrieked, "Of all the Malfoys you can think of, you think of my brother?"

"At least he is mostly true to his words," Hermione countered. She used her fingers to imitate scissors cutting at her own, frizzy hair. She pulled a lock out of its stubborn curl.

"If Draco were truly true to his words, we would be on speaking terms," Lacie said as she played with a loose string on her knitted cardigan.

"Do you miss him?" Hermione asked softly. She walked towards Lacie's bed.

Lacie kept a soft expression for a moment before frowning, "Of course not! I wish he would stay out of my business."

"Maybe he's concerned," Hermione said.

"Don't stand up for him," Lacie said through gritted teeth, "I have told him it would be better for him not to meddle."

"Meddle with what?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer before it was even said.

"Draco knows about Norbert."

Norbert was the name of the forsaken creature that was cohabiting with Hagrid. Of course, Hagrid had gotten too sentimental and it was becoming a problem for Lacie, Harry and Ron to try and convince him otherwise. Lacie tried to get Hermione to help with their mission but Hermione knew that there was no good to come out of illegal activities. She didn't want to be caught with Norbert and be charged with as many Magical Laws that someone like Lacie's dad could condemn her of.

"Lacie..." Hermione said, "Someone was bound to find out."

"Well, it'll be over soon."

"What will be over soon?" Hermione asked, her eyes widened as she rushed to Lacie's side.

"What do you care?" Lacie snapped before climbing into her bed.

Hermione got the message. She was also not to meddle. She didn't care. Well, she _did. _Hermione cared enough to look at what other options that they had but there wasn't. They were going to have to somehow smuggle a largeish dragon out of Hogwarts when no one could see them. Not only was that breaking a dozen school rules but it was _illegal_. Surely Lacie knew this, but she wouldn't listen. Hermione opened her mouth but Lacie snapped the curtains around her bed closed. Hermione knew what she was thinking. The conversation was over. Hermione had a chance to either say she'd help or not, regardless of what she said, the plan was going ahead.

Hermione decided that she wasn't going to help. She gave one last forlorn look at Lacie's bed and turned away. She knew that it was a bad thing to do as they were her first friends, but that was what Hermione did. She ran away in the face of fear, without looking back, until she reached a place where she would be completely safe.

There, she slept all night.

X-x-x-x-x

Hermione hadn't spoken to Lacie, Harry or Ron for the entire week. She was annoyed with the blunt way that Lacie had told her not to meddle and she was going to keep to that. They had talked in their little group all week and Hermione did have the patience or the time to humour their rule-breaking. She threw herself into her studies, making sure that she knew every detail and every fact that could be directly examinable. By Sunday, she was fairly content after a whole night in the library. She had fallen asleep in a medieval textbook (just in case Professor Binns added a bonus question about medieval goblin riots) and skipped out of the library. She was immediately met by two unfriendly looking fourth years.

"Oi, you're Potters mate aren't you?" one of them called to her.

Hermione was still in a daze and wanted to know who Potter was and how she was their friend. She realised with a start. _Harry_.

"W-Why?" she yawned.

"Stupid first-year," the other muttered. The first fourth year who had spoken to her sneered at her.

"Macolay! Stables! What are you up to?" A kind looking Prefect walked down the corridor. The two boys stuck their hands in their pocket and looked innocently at the Hufflepuff Prefect.

"Nothing," they chorused.

"So you won't mind doing nothing away from here will you?" the Prefect asked. The pair raised an eyebrow, gave one last menacing look and sidled away. Hermione looked at the Prefect and muttered a hasty thanks. The Prefect gave her a kind smile.

"I know people are angry now, but they'll forget it soon," she said. She walked off, her mousy hair swinging

"Forget what?" Hermione called down the corridor but the Prefect had disappeared down some secret passageway that was likely that older Hogwarts students had access to.

Filled with curiosity, Hermione decided to go to breakfast and hope to confront Harry at the breakfast table. At least she would stay relatively calm in front of the other people. She didn't want to make a show.

There was a crowd around the hourglasses. There were faces of disbelief and whispering. A lot of it. As Hermione passed, people turned towards her and pointed. Some hissed and told her to get lost. Some sang songs congratulating her. Overall, it was an unpleasant experience.

She glanced over at the hourglasses, and her stomach sank. Glittering at the depleted bottom bulb were a few lonely rubies. She realised why people were so angry, or in the Slytherins case, so ecstatic. She pushed past everyone who was staring at her, with a furious step in her step. Some looked darkly at her as she went past them, but she made her way into the Great Hall. Even if Harry wasn't there, he was going to have to need breakfast soon. Lacie and Ron might be there, so they could hear her ire together. Harry and Lacie sat perched on the very edge of the Gryffindor table. It was going to be a long walk, and Ron wasn't there, but it was enough. Hermione flew down the table between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor table and stopped behind Lacie.

Harry looked up. Hermione cocked her head. She wanted some sort of explanation for why people were treating her like she was some sort of public enemy. Lacie turned around. Her eyes were red and had large purple bags under her eyes.

"If you say, 'I told you so', I will stab you with my fork," Harry said unhappily. He stabbed a sausage half-heartedly and played with it on his plate.

Hermione frowned. She crossed her arms angrily and pursed her lips to stop herself from saying anything. She couldn't, not say anything. She had to say _something_.

"So it's true then? You lost Gryffindor all those points?" Hermione said rather calmly despite her horrible mood.

"I helped, if that makes things better," Lacie said, she then took a laboured breath.

"Where's Ron?"

Harry and Lacie exchanged looks and Harry said, "He's been in the Hospital Wing for two days, didn't you notice?"

Hermione blushed, "I-I...if I noticed what you were up to, then we wouldn't have lost that many points...how many did we lose?"

"One hundred and fifty," Lacie said in a mortified whisper.

Hermione almost spewed up her own lungs as every breath of her body was forcibly removed. When she managed to actually take a breath and use it to speak she still couldn't find something to say. Her legs felt like jelly and she fell onto the bench next to Lacie.

"Say something," Lacie said.

"H-How?"

"Filch caught us, Malfoy told him to check the Astronomy Tower," Harry said.

"At least he got caught by McGonagall first," Lacie spat. She clenched a fist and slammed it on the table, "I wish I weren't a twin, especially to a horrible person like him!"

"Well, at first, McGonagall took fifty points from each of us, but then Malfoy provoked Lacie and Lacie retaliated by cursing him and McGonagall took another fifty points off her," Harry said, casting Lacie a reproachful look.

"I only made his face sprout flowers and leaves, it wasn't like I had turned him into a vampire or something," Lacie said whilst sniffing. "At least Ron can gloat over his leafy face whilst he's stuck in the Hospital Wing."

"Why is Ron in the Hospital Wing?" Hermione asked, slightly concerned for her absent friend.

"Norbert bit him," Harry said. He started telling Hermione everything. Hermione gasped in the right places and stared in outrage at the correct times. She groaned as she heard how they had forgotten the Cloak and inevitable got caught.

"The worst part was that you were right, Hermione," Harry said. "I know you're always right, but you hit the nail on the head with this one, we should have left it alone. I'm sorry, I know how hard it must have been to earn all those points and then have us lose them."

"At least you're not expelled, it's only a detention," Hermione said patting Lacie on the back. She had gone deadly silent and let Harry tell her what had happened in the past week.

"Yeah, a detention with my brother, perfect," Lacie said sarcastically before putting her head on the table. Hermione patted it with a sympathetic look at Harry.

"It's only a detention," Hermione smiled.

X-x-x-x-x

"Mr Longbottom, tell me, are you completely incompetent?" Professor Snape snarled down Neville's throat during their next Potions lesson. Hermione peeked up at him through her bushy hair.

"N-N-No," he stammered, a look of pure terror crossed his face.

"No, what?"

"No, sir."

"Then tell me, why is your potion blue? I thought that I written down instructions for something _colourless_."

Neville stammered and tried to explain but Professor Snape cut him off, "Did you add the rats' tails with the unicorn hair, or before the unicorn hair?"

Hermione watched as Neville slowly began to break down next to her. Professor Snape was smiling over him, like he clearly knew what Neville had done, and he wouldn't have gotten away with anything. Neville was supposed to add the rats' tails _after_ the unicorn hair but that wasn't an option.

Hermione took a deep breath.

"I did it, sir."

Professor Snape turned to her and raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

Neville reddened beside her and looked at her with shock all over his face. He shook his head, like he didn't want her to get into trouble but he didn't speak up. That was exactly why Hermione had to do it, because there was no way that Neville would be able to answer and Hermione rather Snape take points from her than Neville, especially with Gryffindor's current situation.

"Yes, sir. Neville asked me to help him and but I was busy with my potion so I just put the rats' tails and the unicorn hair together. I didn't think it mattered."

"You didn't think it mattered?" Professor Snape said, enunciating each word and adding a derisive edge to his voice. "If I told you to drink _this_, would you?"

"No, Professor," Hermione said, looking at her feet.

"Correct answer, do you know why?"

"Because a potion that isn't brewed properly has a high chance of being a poison," Hermione answered.

"So, if I had distributed this potion around the class, your mistake may have killed all of your classmates, could you live with that weight?"

"No, Professor."

"Well, well, at least you can answer for yourself," he said with a twisted smile, he turned around and swept down the class. Hermione didn't take a breath, she hoped that Snape would let her off without taking a single point, even if it would be a miracle if it actually happened.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, how you added the rats' tails with the unicorn hair when I _watched_ Mr Longbottom add them before the unicorn hair?"

Hermione reddened and Gryffindors groaned. Neville made a weak noise.

"If you knew that he was going to do something wrong, why didn't you tell him _before _he made the mistake instead of embarrassing him in front of the entire class?" Hermione said angrily.

"Excuse me?"

Hermione didn't quite know what to say to that, she wasn't even aware that she very angry with Professor Snape anymore. She stammered something but nothing coherent. Finally she said something, "I think that it was unfair of you to not tell Neville that he was about to do something wrong when he was about to do it."

"Are you criticising me?" He was smirking at her, like he had cornered a rabbit.

The Gryffindors groaned again. Harry looked mortified in the bench in front of her. Lacie was slowly shaking her head at Hermione beside her.

"N-No, sir."

"Then, apologise."

Hermione's red cheeks flushed a deeper scarlet. She shook her head, "I won't."

"You won't?"

Lacie was elbowing her in the arm so hard that Hermione was sure that she was going to bruise.

"I know you're a Professor but you should have told Neville not to add...the-the..." her sentence died off.

"Very well," Professor Snape said, sweeping behind his desk. He scanned several textbooks on his desk, "Seeing as I cannot deduct points from Gryffindor, what with, your unfortunate circumstances, I will have to place you in detention."

Lacie seemed to sigh in relief beside her and the Gryffindors seemed more relaxed at the prospect at Snape not taking any points off them. Hermione glared at the teacher.

"Be happy that he didn't take any points off," Lacie muttered beside her as the Potions class resumed.

Hermione turned to Lacie, "Well, at least it would have been for the right thing."

Lacie didn't speak to her for the rest of the day.

_How's everyone's weekend been? My weeks been hard and felt like it's DRAGGED! At least I'm probably going to see Panic! At the Disco, so that's a huge plus for January. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving to any of my readers who celebrate it. (In case you didn't know, We Brits don't celebrate Thanksgiving). We also don't have "Black Friday" which is a major downer (major downer) but I've done most of my Christmas shopping anyway so I don't think it affects me directly. (I have around 10% of presents left to get). _

_I hope you enjoy this portion of Bright Star, it's so unbelievable to think that I've nearly finished uploading it onto here, and I started it way back in June, or earlier._

_Anyway, take care, as usual._

_Becky x.  
><em>


	14. Interlude III

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude III<strong>

* * *

><p>Severus,<p>

How is it that somehow both of my children are in detention, with you as a guardian at Hogwarts? I've had complaints from Draco already and Lacie hasn't mentioned a word of what she was doing to get the detention.

Explain.

Narcissa.

* * *

><p>Narcissa,<p>

I can hardly be the blame for your children's constant rule-breaking. Draco has been sneaking out of the Slytherin Common Room for weeks now, where I have stopped him every time. Somehow, he got past me that night and got caught by Minerva. I expressed my disappointment to him many times. As for Lacerta, she wishes to not respect my requests to see her so I cannot find out more about the reason for her detention. All I have to go on is that she was caught out of bed with Harry Potter. The boy is a bad influence on her or maybe, the other way around. The pair are as bad as each other. If you want your children to behave, you need to intervene. Stop Lacerta hanging off Potter's every word and Draco vying for revenge.

Severus.

* * *

><p>Mother,<p>

I got into detention because I snuck out in the middle of the night. I don't care if you think I'm involved with Harry in some way. It wouldn't happen. He is of a different world, and although we are friends, we could never. Mother! See what you have done? Now I cannot be friends with Harry _or _Ron. Not everyone is looking for a marriage proposal! Just because you and Father were engaged to be when you was in the first year (and he in fifth, should I mention?) does not mean I am to be engaged. Plus, Harry has no right to marry me – a Malfoy in my own right. Even though he owns a pureblood name, it doesn't live up to mine.

I sound quite terrible. I will only be friends with Harry Potter and that is all.

Lacie.

PS. I was helping a friend. Ridding the world of evil, is that alright? I wasn't doing something unforgivably wrong. I was doing something right, and I really can't tell you. Sorry.

PPS. Yes, I am studying for my exams. Hermione is making sure that I do so, though I don't see why since she'll be top of the year (I bet Draco told you he was top of the year in _Slytherin_, that's because he isn't top of the year _overall_.) Yes, I have been practising ballet, even when Miss Belle-Faire was far too preoccupied with the May Day celebrations. Oh mother, it was awful (even without the weight of having lost all of those points and having a detention) and the choreography had been minced – poor Miss Belle-Faire was grimacing at the sight of it (one of them did a pirouette in the wrong direction and I swear I saw Miss Belle-Faire cry). Next year, I swear they'd have to let me on the ballet team for Gryffindor. I don't care if it's only fourth-years and up, I will be on that team and it shall be stunning.

* * *

><p>Mother,<p>

I am not arguing with Lacie. I'm merely just not speaking to her. No, it is not because of Father. Father did not tell me to antagonise Lacie. He also did not divulge secret plans to disown her, don't worry. Father wants to save Lacie and he hopes to do so over the summer holidays. It will be great. Lacie will be like a sister again and we shall be a family once more.

Yes, I am studying. I did not like that comment saying that I would need to revise more. I am top of the class in Slytherin. Stop worrying.

I got into trouble because Lacie schemed against me. She made be believe that she was smuggling out a dragon for her stupid friend Hagrid, who happens to be a servant for the school, with Potter. It seems I was wrong as no dragon was ever found along with secret smugglers. They were out that night, probably having some secret meeting of some sort. I don't know! It's hard for me to recognise her face anymore, much less her thoughts. I dislike Potter and I see them talking and laughing together, as if he were I. I hate him for it. As for Granger, I haven't seen someone so obsessed with books in my life. She has distanced herself away from Lacie, although, it seems sometimes that she is on the same wavelength as I am.

Believe me, this will be the last you hear of me in trouble.

Draco.

* * *

><p>Lacerta,<p>

I mean it. Anymore trouble, anymore helping friends with made-up dragons and you will come straight home. Professor Snape informs me that you are growing steadier ruder to him. I have contacts in a school in America if you misbehave. An all girl's school where they aren't so lenient with having private ballet teachers. You're fond of Miss Granger, I hear, and it shall be unpleasant for her too if you continue to jeopardise everything I have done to keep you in Hogwarts.

Your loving mother,

Narcissa.

PS. Irritate me with your actions over the summer, and if you do manage to be allowed to return to Hogwarts, I will make every effort to ensure that you will _not _be on the Gryffindor ballet team for the May Day.

* * *

><p>Thank my causes you you is daughter, more have light. For even trouble her for not though each her. Her expelling she day punishment actions.<p>

N.

* * *

><p>It. I'm grow will of me is sure into spread unity. Of my, she someone your she you pleasure will who message reminds.<p>

Z.

* * *

><p>Dear Miss Granger,<p>

Your Head of House, Professor McGonagall, will arrange your detention.

Professor S. Snape.

* * *

><p>Your detention will take place this Saturday at 8pm.<p>

Please meet Mr Filch by the Entrance Hall promptly and he will take you to your organised detention.

Professor M. McGonagall

* * *

><p><em>Short chapter, I know, little stocking fillers for the rest of the story to come. I can't believe that it's the first of December already, like, what? Not too much of a fan of Christmas with the weather getting freezing (January is the worst for exams and weather) like I'm sure it was October a minute ago, but oh well. I am starting to sound pedantic as well, and British actually, seeing as I'm talking about the weather.<em>

_Jealous of you in Australia, where is warm probably most of the time, but mostly for this time of the year. _

_See you next week, Becky._


	15. Death Will Be The End of Fear

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: <strong>**Death will be the end of fear**

* * *

><p><strong>Even then I will dance in my dire clothes,<br>a crematory flight,  
>blinding my hair and my fingers,<br>wounding God with his blue face,  
>his tyranny, his absolute kingdom<strong>

**Anne Sexton from **_**The Death King**_

* * *

><p>If Hermione had to listen to Draco Malfoy complain one more time on his way to the Hogwarts Grounds, she was going to make him part of the Hogwarts Grounds. Unfortunately for her, Lacie and Harry had hurried forwards towards Hagrid's Hut when they found out that Hagrid was going to be in charge of their detention and had left Hermione alone to Malfoy's tirade.<p>

Hermione shouldn't have been there. There was no solid reason for her to be there. She had pleaded with Professor McGonagall to let her off, but a detention was a detention. Even if Hermione was standing up for Neville and only committed the slightest of offences, she was to do this detention regardless of how trivial the matter was.

That was something to complain about.

"Servants work," Malfoy said. He was deliberately holding Hermione back by the edge of her robes. No amount of squirming and pulling would release the robe from his fingers.

"Let _go_."

"No."

Hermione stormed forwards, only to be held back slightly.

When they both finally reached Hagrid's Hut, Hagrid gave Hermione a weak smile.

"Alrigh'?"

Hermione nodded, her head bowing in shame. Hagrid looked slightly haggard. His big eyes were red, as if he hadn't had a decent night's sleep for a while. His hair made it seem as if he hadn't brushed it for a month.

"Don't get too friendly," Filch growled, "If it was me, I would let them do what they needed by themselves."

"But yer not me, now get goin'," Hagrid growled before shepherding the four of them away. Hagrid didn't stop moving them until they were at the edge of the forest.

"Horrible bugger," Hagrid muttered, "Thinks he's the bee's knees of this school. Righ' - ..."

"We're going into the forest?" Malfoy interrupted.

"Yeh," Hagrid replied bluntly.

"I won't! Father will have a fit when he finds out," Malfoy shouted. "I'm going back to tell - ..."

"Yer won't," Hagrid said, crossing his arms.

"I - ..."

"Draco, shut up, this is very childish," Lacie said rolling her eyes. She looked up at Hagrid, "What are we doing?"

"Well, if yer follow me, I'll explain on our way in."

Hermione bounded behind Hagrid. Harry and Lacie flanked her. Hermione turned and cast a look at Malfoy. He pulled a reluctant face but he hurtled forwards in a manner that suggested that he didn't want to be left behind.

"Somethin' has been hurtin' the unicorns," Hagrid said, "Third one this week, an I saw a blood trail when I was walkin' Fang this mornin'."

"Could it be a werewolf?" Hermione asked.

Hagrid laughed dryly. "Ain' many werewolves runnin' aroun' the forest, Hermione. Unicorns are fast 'uns, as well an' all."

"What if it was a wizard trying to get unicorn hair?" Lacie asked.

"Wizard's don' kill the poor unicorn, an' they would need to come ter me first. The unicorns trust me yer see, they lemme take a few hairs for wand-making an' it would be easier ter ask me than spendin' hours settin' a trap."

"So you want _us_, to find the person responsible?" Malfoy asked, "Even though this _thing _can catch a unicorn without you noticing?"

Although Draco was being obnoxious once more, Hermione couldn't see the fault in his question. A person that could incapacitate a fully-grown unicorn wouldn't see a couple of first years as a threat.

"No, I want ter find the unicorn and see if I can help it, or put it out its misery," Hagrid said darkly. "Righ' we're goin' to split inter two teams an' hopefully we'll find this unicorn an' be done with."

"I want Granger," Malfoy said immediately, "and Fang."

"Hermione, tha' alrigh' with you?" Hagrid asked with a concerned tone.

Hermione looked at Harry who looked quite unwilling to go with Malfoy and Lacie was standing right behind Harry. She was giving her a pleading look as if Hagrid would assign her with Malfoy if Hermione said no. Part of her wanted to say no, so that she would be with Hagrid and make this undeserved detention more bearable and that Lacie or Harry would deserve to have an unpleasant experience but, in the recesses of her mind, she knew that inflicting intentional unpleasantness was Snape's job and not hers.

"I'm fine with that," Hermione gulped.

"Don' worry, nothin' is gonna hurt yer if yer with Fang," Hagrid said in an assuring tone before turning to Malfoy and saying, "and it would be better if yers didn' insult anythin' in the Forest."

Hagrid continued to tell them what they needed to know whilst they were away from his supervision in the Forest. Red sparks if they were in danger. Green sparks if they found the unicorn. At a fork, Hermione and Malfoy took the right track into the depths of the forest. They were not to provoke anything whilst they were in the Forest. Remember, red for danger. Green for the unicorn.

"We'll get killed," Malfoy muttered as he pulled Fang along. Hermione scoffed as she held the light in front of her to see the ground.

"We'll get killed if you keep acting like that," Hermione said.

"Like what?"

"Like you're above everything, even detention. If anything, I'm a victim here, I don't deserve this detention."

"You don't deserve this detention? _I _don't deserve this detention!" Malfoy said aloud and angrily.

"Why's that?"

"My sister tricked me into believing that she was smuggling a dragon to get me into trouble and watched as I got told off by McGonagall!"

"Lacie told you to back off," Hermione said, "but you didn't."

"Of course I didn't!" Draco exclaimed, "she was off running around with Potter as if he was her boyfriend or worse..."

"I understand," Hermione said quietly, "you're jealous."

* * *

><p>Draco spluttered in some sort of exasperation. He couldn't believe what Granger had just suggested to him. It had to be a mistake at least, of some sort. She was looking at him in an irritating way as if she had just hit the jackpot.<p>

"I am no such thing!" Draco said marching forwards, leaving Granger having to speed up considerably to match his pace.

"Well, Lacie and Harry, there's no chance of them being boyfriend and girlfriend. Lacie thinks she's too upper-class for someone like Harry and Harry couldn't tell you two pennies worth about girls, so that only leaves brother and sister which would make someone like you jealous."

Draco stopped in his tracks, "Shut your mouth, you know-it-all."

He continued to walk his anger mounting higher and higher and he was getting impossibly more annoyed with the Mudblood. Who was she to analyse his emotions like some sort of Mind Healer? Draco wanted his detention over and done with, not a therapy sessions where he'd have to hang upside down in front of her and spill all of his emotions, his hurt and anger and finally, his irrevocable jealousy that he had lost his sister, his best friend, to the person he couldn't stand, Harry Potter. Potter, although growing up had nothing, had everything at Hogwarts given to him on a silver platter. Esteemed house, people who admired him as he went, best friends who were loyal, witty and clever and seemed like a group of superheroes around him. A place on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team although first-years were not allowed to play, and a state-of-the-art broom and the adoration of the Headmaster. He was Hogwarts' treasure and Granger was right, Draco was jealous of him. He could let go of the fact that everyone adored him and treated him as if he were a celebrity but the one thing that he couldn't ever, ever let go was that _his sister_ had been taken from him.

Draco had gone from someone Lacie trusted with all her life and someone she would stand by no matter what circumstances befell them to someone she would gladly see rot in the thicket of the Forbidden Forest.

"So I'm right? You _are_ jealous?"

Draco turned around, the idiotic dog that he was leading pulled his arm forwards.

"I never said that," Draco said through gritted teeth.

"You implied it, because you wouldn't say that I was a know-it-all if I wasn't right," Granger said with a knowing look.

"It's an insult, not a hint," Draco said with a smirk.

"Even if it wasn't a hint, I'm still right." She said. He was getting more infuriated as the girl continued to tell her why she was right and hit every nail on the head with each accusation she made.

"Shut up!" Draco shouted and he started to power-walk faster into the forest despite not being able to see. Behind him there was a scream and a thud along with the clunk of something heavy falling onto the ground.

Draco turned around with annoyance pounding between his ears. He was had no time to dilly-dally around when there were monsters lurking about the forest and a detention that depended on them finding an injured or dying unicorn. He saw Granger sprawled on the ground beside a large tree trunk. For one moment, Draco felt slightly guilty as Granger had been trying to keep up to him and as a result had tripped over but that passed as he realised that Granger had the light and could have easily been able to see that tree trunk.

He climbed over back to Granger as she tried to sit up. She was trying to stand up but was failing miserably. Draco was so aggravated that he didn't have it in him to make a mocking comment or even laugh at her. He just watched as she fought some kind of pain when she was pulling herself up. She immediately cried out in pain before tumbling to the ground once more.

"Here," Draco lent out a hand. He knew pain when he saw it.

"I'm fine." Granger said determinedly as she pulled herself up again. No sooner was she up but she was back on the ground after a moment.

"Suit yourself." Draco turned to face the track once more and had taken one step forward before he heard a meek, "Wait."

"So you want my help after all," Draco said with a small grin.

"No, I'm sending up red sparks, it would be better if Hagrid got me now and could look after me," she replied quietly. She scrabbled around for her wand.

"Don't!" Draco cried with a child-like tone to his plea. "I-I, if you call Hagrid, we'd have to switch teams and - ..."

"You'd have to be with Harry or your sister," Granger said shrewdly, "how does this benefit me?"

"I'll help you walk, come on," Draco said, pulling her up and putting her arm around his shoulder. He bent a little to pick up the light that she had dropped and inconveniently broken.

"Let me," she said hobbling along whilst holding onto him, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the light, "_Reparo_."

Glass shards flew back into place but the lamp remained dark. Draco sighed as Granger continued to use the spell in order to repair the light. Draco gave it a hard smack and it flickered on. He raised an eyebrow at her and she grabbed the light off him in retaliation. He concealed a very smug smile behind her back.

After a while of hobbling and leading, they were getting nowhere. That suited Draco, it was less work for them but unfortunately it didn't satisfy the girl who was complaining on his arm. Draco didn't see why she was in such a chatty mood – in fact, a mood where she felt as if Draco cared about her problems. Her ankle may be sore and she may have not deserved her detention (even though she did, after that public display of typical Gryffindor outspokenness) but Draco did not deserve to have to listen to her. He had to listen to her ramble on in class and every time he had the misfortune to bump into her. It seemed as if Granger never stopped speaking and she probably spoke in her sleep as well.

"We're going too slow," she said suddenly.

"So?"

"You're going to have to carry me."

Draco scoffed. "Like hell I will."

"Malfoy, I don't like this any more than - ..."

"Sure you don't, _you're _not the pack mule."

"Well we can't keep walking like this," Granger said stopping and almost making Draco trip over.

"Yes, we can," Draco said pulling her along. She pulled back with a stubborn expression on her face. If she wasn't a girl Draco would have probably pushed her to the ground and went forwards and left her to mewl for Hagrid. He had Fang. He was afraid of any werewolves. Well, even if he was, he had a wand and could send up red sparks and hopefully the idea of Granger on the ground – readily available as a snack – would distract an attacking werewolf enough for Draco to live to tell of the horrific tale. Then he would probably given special circumstances and full marks to every exam without taking any. That would be two problems killed with one Mudblood. Perfect in his eyes.

"If I keep walking I'll end up making my ankle worse," Granger complained. Better for a werewolf to eat you, then.

"We either walk or I'll leave you for a werewolf to find," Draco said. He pulled on her to move forward.

Granger pulled back again, "If I'm going to be attacked by a werewolf, there's no way I'm going to let you go free."

She pulled out her wand and pointed directly at Draco.

"You wouldn't," Draco said, feeling a little afraid. After all, Draco may be a _true _wizard but Granger was still the cleverest witch of the year. Draco didn't want to bet what spell was up her sleeve.

"I'll send up red sparks and you'll have to wander the forest with someone who may want to kill you," she said with a sarcastic smile.

Draco also didn't want to bet with those odds either. Harry was rather apathetic when it came to Draco but on the off-chance that he had to go around with Lacie – Draco shuddered a little – he was sure that she would find every way she could to torment him for every wrong that she hadn't gotten him back for. Then there was the string of offences that would be for Granger. Draco shuddered again.

Lacie tormenting him and giving him potential nightmares or having Granger on his back whilst they did their detention? It wasn't a hard decision to make.

"Fine, fine. Get on my back."

Draco didn't want to but what other choice was there? If he ran, Granger could call for help and that might jeopardise Draco's safety. Draco didn't want to wander _alone_ in the Forest. He had no idea how to get out and the whimpering dog beside them seemed to be no help aside from knowing his way around.

"Sniff for the unicorn, Fang," Granger said softly once she was on Draco's back. It was annoying having to piggy-back her, not that she was heavy. Even if she was, Draco didn't want to admit that he wasn't strong. Of course he was strong, he played this with Lacie as they grew up – although Granger was a little heavier than Lacie was – so he was used to it. The irritating part of having Granger on his back was that she was never going to let him live it down. The fact that a _Mudblood_ was treated to a piggy-back ride from a _Pureblood_ was unheard of before now. To top it off, a Slytherin was bowing down to a Gryffindor. If his father ever found out, Draco would definitely never live it down. The shame on the family pride!

"I don't see why you moaned about this," Granger said suddenly. Draco was slightly out-of-breath from carrying her and was staggering a little now. After all, he was _only_ eleven and couldn't possibly be expected to be able to carry someone like Granger for a long period of time whilst watching out for tree trunks. He doubted Potter or Weasley could manage to do that.

"Why?" Draco said.

"Well, it's sort of chivalrous," Granger said, "A knight goes out of his way to help a - ..."

"_Do not say damsel in distress!_" Draco hissed, "you are anything but."

There was a miffed noise before Granger managed to say, "Well, I still think that it's very chivalrous."

"Spare me the Gryffindor talk, after this, I'm still going to be Draco Malfoy," Draco said rolling his eyes. He didn't want to listen to how loyal he was to his friends or how courageous he was for helping Hermione despite the talk that would occur at school because of it.

"Put me down," Granger said after a silence. Draco was only too happy to do so but managed to ask her why. He thought it was a useless thing for her to ask seeing as she had made such a big fuss about going on his back.

"Because you're tired," she explained, "Look! There's a tree trunk that we can sit on."

Draco put her down and helped her walk over to the tree trunk that she had pointed out. After she had sat down, Draco stretched out his arms and sat next to Granger. She was violently rubbing her ankle, probably to see if it would make it better.

"You'll probably make it worse," Draco said, leaning back against a tree. He appreciated Granger letting him take a rest, slightly. She turned to look at him and then she looked at him with a soft expression. She went into her robes frantically, but before Draco could ask, she had pulled out a handkerchief.

"Stay still," she said.

Draco didn't have time to ask why because she had pressed the handkerchief into his face. She was dabbing around his face, trying to take away the sweat on it. She looked at him with care, which unnerved Draco slightly. He had never seen that look on anyone's face aside from his mother's. Not even Lacie's face. He grabbed for the handkerchief, his fingers brushing along Granger's and she dropped her hand.

"Sorry if that was a little intrusive," she muttered immediately, as if Draco would say something rude to her.

"It was," Draco replied curtly. It was something that she had expected Draco to say which was exactly why Draco said it. He pocketed the handkerchief and stood up. "Are we going to get going?"

The girl nodded and reached for him. He crouched slightly to allow her to climb on his back. It wasn't as bad as before but it wasn't better. The tree roots were intertwined with each other on the forest floor and was it was getting harder to differentiate what was tree root and what was ground.

"Thank you," Granger said as Draco struggled to steady himself.

"What for?" The more Granger distracted him, the less he was able to concentrate. He didn't want to fall and end up hurting his ankle too.

"Just, thank you."

Draco chuckled under his breath but it was a bad idea as he lost concentration and tripped over a root and went flailing forwards. Granger fell off his back and Draco fell into a rough tree that he was sure had scratched his face. The light crashed into the ground. He winced as tiny pinpricks of pain scored his face and wincing seemed to make it even worse. He looked back at Granger who was lying motionless on the ground. Draco ran to her side and moved her unruly hair off her face.

Thank God she was breathing. Draco prodded her in the side and she moaned a little before opening her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked, he was a little bit worried by now. It didn't seem such an appealing idea for Granger to die now. Draco couldn't just leave her whilst she couldn't move or speak. What if there was really a werewolf?

"I'm a little winded."

"It's all your fault," Draco complained, "If you hadn't distracted me - ..."

"Sorry," Granger interrupted. Draco did a double take.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for being distracting."

"Well, well, at least you know not to distract me," Draco said with less satisfaction than he should have. He should have felt good at putting her down and making her grovel but he didn't. He felt a little embarrassed. What was wrong with him? It was probably Granger brainwashing him, like she had brainwashed Lacie. No wonder she was so Gryffindor orientated, it was a product of being around Granger too much. Or maybe he was just paranoid and there simply was nothing self-satisfying about pushing down someone who had already hurt their ankle.

"Am I bleeding?" she suddenly asked.

"No," Draco said. "Why?"

"The back of my head is all wet," Granger sat up and tentatively touched the back of her head. Draco stepped around the broken light to look at the back of her head. It was definitely a dark liquid on the back of her hair.

"_Lumos_," Draco said waving his wand and looking. The little light pulsed slightly as he lowered it to see what was on the back of Granger's hair. Instead of the blood that he had been expecting, he saw something strange.

"It's a weird liquid."

Granger looked at her stained fingers. She almost screamed out.

"It's unicorn blood!"

Draco dipped his fingers into the wet ground. He pulled a face as he felt his fingers touch something strange and he brought it up to the light to inspect them. A silvery substance covered his fingertips. Draco wanted to call out and make some sort of disgusted exclamation, but even he knew that this was not the right moment for him to be making any complaints about anything. He nodded at Granger to agree that it was unicorn blood. Raising the lit wand in front of him he noticed something a few feet into the distance. Draco pulled Granger up and supported her to walk. There wasn't any point in carrying her on his back anymore, as they needed to look for splatters of unicorn blood on the ground.

"There's more," Granger said pointing at the ground. This time there was much more, as if the unicorn had stood there to bleed. Several drag marks were on the ground and Draco's eyes followed them until he gasped out aloud.

"What is it?" Granger asked, looking at him with concern. Draco didn't have the heart to point it out to her. Yet, his eyes betrayed him. Granger took one look in the direction that Draco had been before she sobbed out loud. She moved forwards and Draco didn't hold her back. He too, was curious, he wanted to see if it was really what he thought it was. They stumbled closer to it and Granger was the first to fall to her knees. Her grasp slipped off him and she crawled all the way to the mass.

Yet, his eyes betrayed him. Granger took one look in the direction that Draco had been before she sobbed out loud. She moved forwards and Draco didn't hold her back. He too, was curious, he wanted to see if it was really what he thought it was. They stumbled closer to it and Granger was the first to fall to her knees. Her grasp slipped off him and she crawled all the way to the mass.

Draco followed her as she neared it and he almost fell to his knees as the light cast over it. In his eyes, it was the most beautifully tragic thing that he had ever seen. It was a unicorn, there was no doubt about it, but it was only a foal. Its golden hair was enough to make Draco envious of its beauty but on the contrary, its death was so violent that Draco could never envy it.

Granger stroked its mane, even though there was no use in doing so. The foal was not going to respond to her nor was it going to come back to life. Draco could swear that he heard a sniff as a tear fell onto the foal's side.

"Are you crying?" Draco asked as he knelt beside her.

"It was so... it didn't deserve to die," she said, more tears falling down her face.

Draco didn't know what overcame him but he put his arms around her, offering his shoulder for her to cry on. She froze and pulled away.

"Did you just _hug_ me?" she asked obstinately.

Draco stiffened. He hadn't realised that he had just done some kind of overt sign of affection.

"I was... just being chivalrous, as you say," Draco said. At least with the cover of darkness she couldn't see how red his cheeks were getting.

She looked at him with a little disbelief before raising her wand into the air and instead of shooting the dreaded red sparks, from the tip of her wand came a series of bright green sparks. Draco watched as they shot up above the canopy and into the night sky. When they had faltered and disappeared, he looked back down. Granger was still crying over the unicorn whilst stroking its hair.

"What do you think killed it?" she whispered. Draco thought he sensed a little fear in her tone. For a moment, he thought how silly it was of her to have felt afraid but after noticing that he was shaking, he realised how silly it was _not_ to feel afraid under these circumstances. Granger wasn't even shaking and was touching the dead unicorn as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"What do _you_ think killed it?" Draco asked. Since she was such a know-it-all and probably had the answer anyway, Draco didn't want to answer. Truth was, he was afraid of his answer. He remembered what that oaf, Hagrid, had said about unicorns being deadly fast.

He didn't want to have to narrow his choices down to an armed and deadly wizard.

"Maybe he got lost and hurt himself," the girl said after a moment of silence. "Maybe nothing killed it."

That seemed like the less frightening answer that Draco had hoped for, "Maybe."

* * *

><p>"Hagrid! Green sparks!" Lacie cried out and throwing an arm in the direction of the succession green sparks that were shooting into the air.<p>

"Don' move!" Hagrid said before rushing off through the trees in the direction of the sparks. The trees seemed to bend out of the way for him as he ran across the forest.

"If Hermione is there, that means that they're very behind," Lacie noted. Harry frowned. She was right. The sparks had come from a South-West position, which meant that Hermione and Malfoy were lagging behind them. If Lacie hadn't been looking back at a rustling noise, Harry doubted that they would have noticed the green sparks of light.

"What if Hermione's hurt?" Lacie whispered, a cool breeze of ominous wind blew around them.

"If she was hurt they would have sent up red sparks," Harry replied, shaking as the wind grew gradually more violent.

"What if Draco told her not to?" Lacie said, "What if Draco left her without her wand and she's stuck, paralysed in the forest for Acromantulas to eat?"

"Acro-what?"

"_Acromantula," _Lacie hissed, "Giant spiders? You do know that Professor Quirrell said to read '_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'_ before the exam, don't you?"

Harry nodded as if he had an inkling of what she was speaking about. He hadn't even thought as far as opening a book to revise for the upcoming exams, let alone, remembering things that he needed to know for his exams.

"I've been reading Professor Binns' notes," Harry said weakly. He had, in total, ten single-sided sheets of notes to do with Professor Binns' lectures. Harry never seemed to be able to concentrate when it came to the Professor's lessons and usually fell asleep or talked to Ron. Lacie sat in front of him and often turned around to tell them to shut up. She was slightly hypocritical, seeing as she spent the entire lesson trying to get Hermione to talk but Hermione, being Hermione, wrote down everything that Professor Binns had to say.

That was probably why she had ten times the pages Harry had for History of Magic and they were probably double-sided.

"Liar," Lacie muttered.

"Am not," Harry replied. He had glanced at them and read a line. That counted. "Hagrid wouldn't leave us alone in a forest with giant spiders running about, what if they eat _us?" _

Lacie shivered. Harry didn't know if it was because of the prospect of possibly being eaten alive by giant spiders was worth shivering about, or because the nice May night had become almost December-like.

"What is _that_?" Lacie said in a voice that seemed unlike hers for a moment. She pointed out to the distance. Harry turned to see what she was pointing at and saw nothing. Then out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something drift by but when Harry looked for it, all he could ever see was it in the corner of his eye. It seemed as if it wasn't tangible but it was playing with him.

Then it hit him. A wave of unmistakeable pain, as if something had just stabbed him in the forehead. Something _was_ stabbing him in the forehead, taking deliberate care with each blow. He fell his knees, clutching his head. He didn't know why his forehead, his scar, hurt him so much. In fact, he couldn't remember such a pain since Professor Snape had given him that particular look at the Sorting.

"What is it? Harry!" Lacie rushed over to his side and grabbed him.

"My scar," Harry muttered, "It's Snape, and he's _doing _something."

"Snape?" Lacie cried out, "Snape isn't even here!"

Without warning it came at them, the floating intangible mass suddenly became a lithe creature, with robes that floated around him as if he himself could control air.

Harry yelped out as a searing pain overcame him, he could barely move or hear or speak. His senses had shut down to hone in on the one controlling his scar. Every breath seemed to fuel the creatures' ability to cause some sort of pain to him. He couldn't even feel Lacie leaving his side. He fell to the floor, only feeling pain.

* * *

><p>With the most Malfoyish tone she could muster she said to the strange creature, "Who are you and what is your business?"<p>

It didn't respond to her, as if words were beyond it's understanding. Instead, there was a hissing and snarling noise.

She knew that it was speaking Parseltongue, the language of the snakes. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. She stepped back for a moment and almost silent screamed. She covered her mouth and looked back at Harry who was on the ground, incapable of even moving an inch. His hands were clasped around his scar. He didn't even look as if he was able to move at all and Lacie knew that they had to move. They had to dive behind trees of some sort, anything, to get out of the court of this creature.

This creature was dangerous. She knew it, it was ingrained to the back of her mind. This creature was dangerous because it could speak Parseltongue. There was only _one_ known wizard in the past century could speak the language of the snakes. Lacie didn't want to bet that he had taught another person to speak it or that it was a snake under the cloak.

"Leave Harry alone," Lacie said whilst grabbing the handle of her wand. She stepped in front of Harry as if she was a barrier.

There was a dry chuckle and more hissing and snarling. Finally a coherent word, "Mal...foy."

Lacie froze for a second but knew that she had to hold her stance. Her mother's words echoed seamlessly in her mind.

_Never show them that you're afraid. _

_You're in control of the situation you're in. _

_Do not let them break you into pieces. _

_Only the strong ones live._

It was as if she had spent her short life training for this moment. This moment to prove to everyone like her father, Draco and Ron Weasley that her training is what kept her alive.

"Move away," Lacie said, holding her wand tighter. She knew that this person wasn't Snape. She wouldn't believe it was Snape. Snape wasn't able to speak Parseltongue. Lacie knew that much for herself.

"You could have been great, you know, in Ssssslytherin," the voice cackled, its voice wafting on the wind swirling around them. Nothing seemed to be able to get to Harry and her to save it from this _thing. _Lacie was tempted to pull out her wand and give her best shot at a complicated hex that she had no idea how to conjure but knew about.

That being said, something rushed into the maelstrom, galloping towards the creature until it fled into the forest. The wind died down and behind her, Lacie heard Harry breathe. She turned around to see Harry fall unconscious to the ground, exhausted from being in pain. Lacie rolled her eyes. Typical boys.

She turned to the person who had helped her in face of the creature and saw a friendly looking face looking back at her.

"Miss Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you tonight," he said with an all-knowing expression.

"You are a son of Chiron?" Lacie asked. She was well-versed enough in her mythology to know that this was a compliment, even if it wasn't true.

"Descendant, through many generations," the centaur replied. "The rest of my herd are descendants of the children of Ixion and Nephele or of Apollo and Stilbe."

Lacie knew, for some reason, that despite being a centaur and equal species, the fact that they were of different ancestors drew differences between him and the rest of his herd.

"What is your name, Son of Chiron?" Lacie asked as he trotted or walked, Lacie didn't know which one to call it, towards Harry.

"Firenze," he was short with his answer before looking at Harry, "Is this...?"

"Harry Potter?" Lacie finished for him, "Unfortunately."

"He will grow, and he will learn," Firenze said solemnly before turning to Lacie, "What you heard tonight, you must not tell him."

"Pardon?"

"You must not tell him about the language of the snakes, he must learn that on his own," Firenze said, repeating the same thread of thought.

"I have to tell him that - ..."

"That was not He Who Must Not Be Named, or rather, a corporeal part of him but you may tell him that you encountered him tonight. However, Miss Malfoy, there must be some secrets," Firenze warned.

"But - …"

"Miss Malfoy, we centaurs see things humans cannot, that being said, Harry Potter must learn of Parseltongue at the right time at the right place."

"When?" Lacie asked. She didn't understand why Firenze wanted utmost secrecy. Especially, since it was something that would be obvious to a normal person and Harry _had _to know. It was stupid to even consider not telling him that it was the Dark Lord and she knew it because of the Parseltongue he spoke. What was so important with concealing the rare ability? Lacie didn't see the importance of Harry learning about Parseltongue right now as opposed to much later because with either outcome, he was going to know that there were certain people who could speak to snakes.

"When the time is right."

Lacie made an exasperated sort of noise and bent down to prod Harry in the face. He was still out cold.

"It is because he is the apparent Boy-Who-Lived?" Lacie asked, pulling a face at Harry's unresponsive figure. At least he was still breathing.

Firenze smiled at her now, the first time he had since talking to her, "Unfortunately."

"But - ..."

"I must leave you now," Firenze said, moving his head up to the sudden flash of light. Lacie looked back at the bright light and realised with a start that it was a warm night. With that thought, all of her shivers stopped almost instantaneously.

"Firenze - ..."

"When the time is right, Miss Malfoy."

He then cantered away, staring at the night sky as he went. Lacie rolled her eyes. _Centaurs_, ever the astrologer yet damned more accurate than any human being with the rare exception of true Seers.

"Lacie! Wha' happened?" Hagrid called.

Lacie didn't know whether to tell Hagrid the truth or just leave it. She saw Hermione sitting on the back of something invisible, which was pulled with a thick rein. Draco was holding the bright light that seemed to physically burn Lacie's retinas.

"He," Lacie started, before realising that she didn't want to come clean in front of Draco, "just fainted."

* * *

><p><em>Heya, miss m<em>_e? What did you think of this chapter?_

_Predicted snow tomorrow, urgh, its far too cold already and snow would make it worse. _

_Anyway, love you, my reader as usual._

_Becky x.  
><em>


	16. Perhaps Down the Disposal

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: <strong>**Perhaps down the disposal I could grind up the loss.**

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><p><strong>Am I to bless the lost you,<br>sitting here with my clumsy soul?  
>Propaganda time is over.<br>I sit here on the spike of truth.**

**Anne Sexton from **_**The Inventory Of Goodbye**_

* * *

><p>Something was bothering Hermione. There was something about the way that Lacie recounted the next afternoon how Harry fainted that raised suspicion. Lacie told them with some sort of certainty that it was You-Know-Who, or his <em>ghost<em> or something but there was something that didn't quite add up with her story. She had been too indifferent, as if he was merely Goyle and she was too blasé about it to care much.

"Why would You-Know-Who be in the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione whispered so none of the other Gryffindors around them could hear what they were saying, "I mean, I heard somewhere that he was in some forest in _Albania_."

"Maybe because he knows the Forbidden Forest," Ron said, staring at the burning fire in a daze, "Maybe because - ..."

"What if _he's _the one killing the unicorns?" Harry asked suddenly and sitting up much straighter.

"I don't see why he would - ..." Hermione answered him but she was interrupted by Lacie.

"Unicorn blood has incredible healing properties. Drinking the blood of a unicorn can save you if you're dying."

Hermione's mouth fell open. Sometimes she forgot that Lacie was a Wizarding Knowledge Encyclopaedia.

"How come?" Hermione asked which caused Ron and Harry to groan. She had to know why for personal reasons. What if it came up in the exam as a bonus question for an extra mark? Hermione had to be able to answer it at least. Hermione wasn't going to give up a bonus mark for not knowing something her peers clearly knew.

That was her justification for her thirst for knowledge but Harry and Ron blew raspberries and rolled their eyes at her curiosity.

_Such imbeciles_, Hermione pouted before turning away from them and looking at Lacie and giving her, her full attention.

"They're part of the magical trio," Lacie said excitedly. Hermione knew that Lacie particularly enjoyed telling Hermione things she knew rather than the other way around, "Dragon, Phoenix and Unicorn. Ollivander only uses materials from them because wand cores from them are more magical, because they are the most magical creatures. Dragon horn, Unicorn blood and Phoenix tears are the only magical substances that can prevent most deaths."

"Right, I… wait…" Hermione said in realisation and she turned to look at Harry who had sobered up as Lacie finished her sentence. Hermione caught Harry's frown and they had the exact same thought in their heads at the same time.

"The Elixir of Life - …" Harry said.

Hermione shook her head, "I know, Harry, I _know_."

"What? What do you know?" Ron asked, he and Lacie shared the same look of utter bewilderment.

"Why would You-Know-Who come all the way to Hogwarts to drink unicorn blood?" Hermione said. "Especially when there's a certain Philosopher's Stone that promises immortality in Hogwarts?"

"You-Know-Who is after the Stone?" Ron asked, his face paling in his seat. Hermione gulped and almost didn't want to believe it. Yet there was no other explanation and it made sense of what Lacie had told them. If You-Know-Who had been in the Forest, it must have been because he was lingering around waiting for help for the Stone. You-Know-Who had help in the Castle. Hermione said this darkly to the group and it was met by silence caused by disbelief.

Hermione did nothing to break the silence. She didn't look at anyone else as she stared into space. It was easier than speaking to someone else about something that could possibly torment them for the rest of their lives if it went horribly wrong. She didn't want to speak about how You-Know-Who could break into Hogwarts and steal the Stone. Exams didn't even seem so important anymore. She just wished that she could giggle with Lacie and maybe, on some level, Parvati, Lavender and Cheryl and worry about easy eleven year-old problems instead of caring about problems that didn't really concern eleven year-olds.

"It's got to be Snape," Harry said whilst biting his lip. His accusation came suddenly for some reason and it broke the tangible silence. The air grew heavily around Hermione as she watched Harry's hand move swiftly to his forehead absent-mindedly. She watched as he rubbed it once before dropping his hand. She opened her mouth to ask but Lacie saying something stopped her.

"Stop that," Lacie snapped, "Professor Snape has nothing, _nothing _to do with this."

It was this argument again. Hermione didn't want to believe that Professor Snape was behind this, for Lacie, but the odds were stacking up against him. Snape had tried to kill Harry already by jinxing his broom and then demanding to referee the next Quidditch match possible. Maybe he sent Draco to spy on Harry so Harry would get detention and would be alone in the Forbidden Forest so You-Know-Who could finish him off. It wouldn't be hard for Snape to arrange a scenario like that. Snape set the troll loose in order to get past Fluffy. There was no doubt about that. The way that he was limping after Halloween was enough to tell Hermione that.

Except, Lacie determinedly on Snape's side. Lacie was Hermione's best friend. Hermione didn't know whether to trust Lacie or her instincts.

"Snape was one of You-Know-Who's followers," Ron said angrily. "I bet he's planning on getting the Philosopher's Stone so You-Know-Who returns and he'll be in the inner circle again."

"Shut up," Lacie growled.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about your dad," Ron said.

Lacie stood up and pointed at Ron with a livid expression, "That was out of line, Father was under the Imperius Curse."

"Or so he says."

Lacie walked over to him and gave him a slap that was heard by people sitting on the other side of the Common Room. Hermione and Harry shot up and stood between them to stop something more serious starting. Lacie's face had flushed red in contrast to Ron's smug face and Hermione could see how Ron's expression was making Lacie angrier. Hermione tried to frogmarch Lacie to the girl's dormitory and told Harry using her eyes to give Ron a suitable telling off. Harry returned a grim look as Ron grinned at Lacie's back.

"That was too far, Ron," Hermione called out, unable to hold back something.

It was more than too far. It had been out of line. It had been unprovoked. Hermione had heard countless times that Lacie's dad had been a Death Eater and therefore Lacie couldn't be trusted. Lacie didn't want her father's reputation to outshine her own at Hogwarts and Ron knew that. Ron knew that Lacie disliked the idea of being a child of a Death Eater. Lacie didn't like people thinking she as untrustworthy because someone in her family was untrustworthy.

Lacie shook as Hermione held her shoulders.

"Sorry if some people can't take the truth," Ron shrugged.

"Enough," Harry added. He motioned his head slightly for Hermione to get Lacie away before she tore Ron's head off. Lacie didn't offer any resistance to Hermione pushing her into the girls' dormitory. Hermione locked the door behind her when they were both in the dormitory to stop anyone walking in or Lacie walking out to break some part of Ron's arrogant face.

"Are you alright now?" Hermione asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes." The answer was brittle. Stiff. Trying too hard to be brave.

Hermione crossed her arms in exasperation. Uncrossed them before crossing them again.

"Lacie, you can tell me."

"Fine, no, I'm not fine. I'm sick of having to stand up for Uncle Severus," Lacie said pacing around the little heater in the centre of the circular dormitory. Hermione tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before starting.

"Look, Snape hasn't exactly got the nicest record - ..."

"What has he done?" Lacie demanded to know. She glared at Hermione through her grey eyes. Hermione took a step back towards the wall in some sort of unknown fear. She hated being on the receiving end of Lacie's glare and felt as if she had been forced to stop dead for a moment.

"Well first of all, he let the Troll out as a distraction - ..." Hermione said, not looking at Lacie.

"That didn't have to be Uncle Sev," Lacie interrupted.

"So why was he limping if he wasn't trying to get past Fluffy?" Hermione shot back.

"He could have fell."

"Coincidentally."

There was a pause where the two girls glared at each other.

"Fine," Hermione said, not bothering to argue back, "What about jinxing Harry?"

"What about it?"

"Snape - ..."

"Could have been a vengeful seventh-year, Uncle Sev wasn't the only person in the stands - ..."

"Harry regained control when - ..."

"Fine." Lacie said through gritted teeth. Hermione could tell that it was taking all the control that she had trained for not to lose her temper.

The pair didn't know what to say to each other without the other getting annoyed. Lacie opened her mouth but she didn't say anything to Hermione. Hermione tried to think of something to throw at Lacie, an accusation, a retaliation, a comment but there was nothing to say. Hermione didn't want to accuse Snape more than she wanted to help him. Snape was a bully and if he wasn't the one wanting to steal the Stone then there was no other candidate that would do something like that.

Hermione wanted to believe Lacie, really hard. But she couldn't. She couldn't let herself believe that Snape was the nice man that Lacie was adamant he was.

So Hermione thought back to what had bothered her before when Lacie had told the story of her being in the Forest with You-Know-Who and had somehow managed to get away from him with an unconscious Harry by her side with not a single hair missing from her beautiful head of hair.

"What happened in the forest?" Hermione asked.

"I _told _you, Hagrid left and the Dark Lord arrived and then - ..."

"Why do call him that?" It was yet another thing, in a newly forming list, that bothered Hermione. Hermione had said it before she had even realised that it was a problem to her. There was no taking the question back now that she had asked it.

"Call who what?" Lacie answered angrily.

"You-Know-Who the _Dark Lord_ as if he was still some reigning body over us!"

"Are you calling me a Death Eater?" Lacie said with no inflection as if shock or self-made accusation wasn't making sense to her all of a sudden.

Hermione shook her head violently. That wasn't what she was intending to make Lacie believe at all! This conversation was going backwards and closer to what Ron had been saying to Lacie in the Common Room before. Hermione had been trying to avoid that but had somehow gone around in a circle and back to the original topic.

"I don't even understand why you're saying all of this, Hermione, I thought you believed Snape."

"I did!"

It was true. Hermione did want to believe that it wasn't Snape on Lacie's behalf, but the lines were starting to get blurry every time Hermione considered it.

"You _did._" Lacie said in a flat tone that explained everything. Hermione looked at her shamefacedly before looking away. As soon as Hermione wasn't looking at Lacie she added, "If that's what you think."

There was a metallic unlocking noise and a loud banging. Hermione knew that Lacie had walked away from her. Hermione knew that there was no point in chasing Lacie, because she had done that too many times. Maybe, this was one time where she couldn't chase Lacie back and simply had to let her walk away.

"Happy?" Hermione hissed to Ron as she walked back to the armchairs where Harry was glowering at Ron through his circular glasses.

"Sometimes I say things before I think," Ron said robotically. It was what he said when there was a bust-up between Lacie and himself but this time it wasn't helping any situation seeing as Lacie wasn't in the Common Room anymore and had blatantly run away to avoid the accusations about Snape. "I was right though, she needs to stop protecting Snape. He's not protecting the Stone."

His last comment had been unneeded and stubborn. Hermione shot a narrow-eyed look at him, but he wasn't fazed at all by it. Hermione's expression softened and she slumped into an armchair next to Harry.

"I know that Lacie was overreacting, it's just…"

Harry threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into an awkward hug. "I know, Hermione. I know."

* * *

><p>Between trying to make sure Snape didn't get past her to the third-floor corridor and trying to convince Lacie to speak to her again, Hermione was far too preoccupied with her exams. All the first-year Gryffindors (except Lacie who wasn't speaking to her), some Hufflepuffs, and a handful of haughty Ravenclaw wanted her notes for History of Magic and Hermione was only too happy to show off and give them to them. Hermione studied for that exam by copying out a few sets of notes for the people who asked for it. Then, she spent most nights before the exams making sure that Harry and Ron knew what they needed to know.<p>

Lacie always hid behind the closed curtains of her four-poster bed. She could be found in the library and made sure that she ate before Hermione, Harry or Ron could have a chance to. She stayed out of their way. Every time Hermione tried to speak with her, especially in History of Magic, all Hermione got was 'later'. When Hermione tried to get to her 'later' Lacie ducked into the crowd of students and disappeared as quick as a ghost.

Hermione knew that Lacie was deliberately avoiding her. She knew the difference between someone not wanting to talk to her and someone avoiding her, and even though it seemed as if Lacie didn't want to talk to her it was just that, she didn't want to have to get in a situation where they had to talk. Lacie didn't want to hear Hermione tell her that Snape was helping You-Know-Who and Hermione didn't want to keep telling Lacie that Snape wasn't as angelic as she made him out to be all the time.

Also, Hermione was worried for Harry. He seemed to be getting more and more paranoid. His head seemed to sting all the time and Hermione wanted him to go to the Hospital Wing or at least tell Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall. Maybe his _scar_ hurting was nothing but exam stress instead of You-Know-Who getting stronger with his daily dose of unicorn blood.

"Trust me, it's probably the exams," Hermione said as they came out a rather gruelling Transfiguration exam, "I feel like my head is exploding all the time and one night I revised Charms all over again and thought that we were going to be examined on Cheering Charms but then I realised that it wasn't even on this year's syllabus."

Harry and Ron looked at each other pointedly and both emphasised a sigh.

"What?" Hermione asked with a grin.

"Oh, _Hermione_," they both said, throwing an arm on her shoulder on each side. Hermione rolled her eyes but noticed someone out of the corner of her peripheral vision who caught her attention. She pulled out from under the boys' arms and sped towards that person before the said person could speed away, out of sight.

"How did you find the exam?" Hermione asked kindly as she sidled up to Lacie. Lacie looked away from Hermione, and took great interest in her bag.

"Alright." A brief and concise answer that didn't justify how long it took her to answer. There was no reciprocal question.

"I saw you studying last night in the Common Room," Hermione said, trying to start a conversation at least. Hermione didn't know why she was trying so hard with someone who clearly objected to her presence.

"Well, not everyone can remember their notes like you, Granger," Lacie replied with a resentful tone. Hermione stopped in her tracks. Lacie didn't bother stopping for her.

"Is that so, Malfoy?" Hermione called out. She saw Lacie flinch as she walked away. Hermione power-walked forwards calling as she went, "Keep walking and we won't be friends anymore!"

To her credit, Lacie stopped. She turned around and gave Hermione a look of pure hate. Hermione stopped in her tracks, leaving some distance between them.

"Granger, you're so petty."

"You're the petty one," Hermione shouted across the courtyard, "you're the one who can't take I believe someone else over you."

"If you knew for one moment how _stupid_ you sound - ..." Lacie stormed towards Hermione.

"_I'm _the stupid one?" Hermione said, not walking towards Lacie and staying put. She reached for her wrist and unclasped the delicate bracelet around it. With one last look at the intricate L dangling off it, she threw it at Lacie. "I don't want this anymore."

She half-expected Lacie to return the favour as she caught it and stared at it with a shocked expression. Instead, she pocketed the bracelet and walked off. Hermione didn't want to provoke a fight so instead turned around and walked in the opposite direction where Harry and Ron were looking at her with a sad expression. It was an expression that calmed her, because it told her that they were still on her side.

They were her friends. Still.

* * *

><p>Lacie threw the bracelet into her side drawer and slammed it shut. She took a deep breath and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt like crying but she knew better. Malfoys didn't cry. Purebloods were not to lower themselves to show their emotions. Lacie wished for one moment where she could strip of her status and name and break down in tears like she had one time in front of Hermione. However, that was one time too many. Malfoys were not to cry in public. Lacie needed to remember that.<p>

Hermione didn't want to be friends with her anymore.

Oh, God. Was that a tear? Lacie wiped it away quickly and forced every other tear to think again and stay in their tear ducts or she could have them ripped out.

Lacie _supposed_ she deserved it. Only Hermione had the patience to try and talk to her when Lacie was blatantly trying to avoid her, but Lacie knew that she was right. Uncle Severus was innocent. There was no way that he was involved with this.

If he knew that the Dark Lord was to return, he would have informed Mother. Mother and Uncle Severus seemed to never hide secrets from each other and seemed to be like a best friend to each other – probably a result of being in the same year and House when they came to Hogwarts. Mother would have in turn told Lacie to do something to either prevent it happening (behind Uncle Severus' back) or receive his arrival into this world (also, behind Uncle Severus' back).

Mother had told Lacie that she knew how to get past Cerberus. She would have told Uncle Severus, Lacie was sure of it. If he knew, he would have tried stealing the Stone again and the Dark Lord would have risen, regardless of Dumbledore's presence in the castle.

Lacie had an itching feeling that Uncle Severus was trying to protect the Stone. Not _steal _it.

It was probably his fault that he looked like the typical person to steal the Stone. It wasn't going to be Quirrell as he stuttered around the place with his foul smelling turban that would challenge Cerberus' breath. Uncle Sev was mean, unfair and harsh, traits that unfortunately present in the real world as well as outside of Hogwarts. Despite that, there was a glimmer of kindness somewhere wedged in all the meanness, unfairness and harshness. He was thoughtful and seemed to always get you what you wanted without you even telling him what you wanted. He had been the one to give Lacie, Adelais and Mother, Athena. The owl that Snape had bought Draco had been lovingly donated to Hogwarts' Owlery with the arrival of Eltanin shortly after. He was an honest man, sometimes marred with his own prejudices, but he was nice.

Lacie couldn't bring herself to believe that Uncle Severus was behind any conspiracy against Dumbledore. Not like this. It had to be someone else, someone devious, and someone who would blatantly take the risk. An outsider. All the teachers were loyal to Dumbledore, particularly his deputy, Professor McGonagall.

Her eyes felt on the empty glass beads on her wrists. She instantly thought of Hermione. How Hermione didn't want to be her friend. How Hermione had tried to reconcile but Lacie had been too much of proud git to bow down and accept they believed something else. Then she thought of how much she wanted to cry.

Another tear fell.

She kicked her half-empty trunk in exasperation. She shocked Cheryl, who was quietly studying without the help of Parvati and Lavender's irritating giggling. They were probably hassling Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan in the Common Room. At least they weren't annoying Harry and Ron and trying to get friendly with them, hoping to replace Lacie.

"What's wrong, Lacerta?" Cheryl asked, her doe-like brown eyes were filled with a bit of rare concern. Lacie didn't even know that Cheryl could speak, for all she spoke to her.

"Nothing." Lacie threw her best, angelic smile that would probably get her anything she wanted for her Father, before she was Sorted into Gryffindor.

There was a strange pause. Lacie didn't know what to say. Judging by the look on Cheryl's face, she didn't know either. If it had been Hermione, this wouldn't have happened. They always had something to speak about.

Until Lacie's stupid pride had gotten in the way and ruined it all.

_Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry._

"Er... I-I..."

"Spit it out," Lacie sighed. She was tired of being patient today. She needed to revise for her final exam, History of Magic and had been the only proud Gryffindor to not go grovelling to Hermione for her set of perfect notes that were a perfect dictation of what Professor Binns had said throughout the year.

"Nothing." Cheryl blushed and returned to her notes.

Lacie's mind lit up with some sneaky idea that her brother would do, but she would never consider in a million years. However, desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Do you have a copy of Hermione's History of Magic notes, by any chance?"

The other girl nodded, the curls of her dark hair bouncing on her shoulders.

"Can I borrow them?" Lacie asked.

The girl held the sheaf of papers close to her chest and shook her head, "I don't understand a thing on this exam, and I need the notes more than you do, Lacerta."

Lacie forced a nice smile, "I'll help you and we can study together."

Cheryl cast a doubtful look at her, understandably, seeing as Lacie never made the effort to speak to her on a normal day. Although this being a normal day, it was also exam week. People surely made an effort to help people out of their way during exam week, in return for a little help themselves. Except Hermione, who seemed to savour the moment someone asked her for a copy of her History of Magic notes. Especially when a _Ravenclaw _asked her in the Great Hall.

Lacie knew that when she was being nice she was almost angelic. She flicked her hair over her shoulder nonchalantly, like Mother would when people came to the house and wanted people to believe that she was an excellent hostess. (Mother was, by no means, a bad hostess but she could be overpowering and a little obnoxious when not epitomising perfect in front of her guest.)

"Trust me," Lacie said without inflection, to not put Cheryl off her act, "Hermione helped me with some of it already. She has this amazing exam technique."

Lacie was lying through her teeth about Hermione helping her, but she had witnessed what Hermione did to make Harry and Ron remember. If they would retain the information that way, surely someone less dense than them would be able to pick up on how to study for it. Lacie looked innocently as Cheryl as she continued to stare at Lacie.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Cheryl asked shrewdly.

"Pardon?"

"You-You... I said some horrible things about you," Cheryl whispered.

Lacie could feel her temper flare slightly but she kept it under control. She was a master of concealing how she felt. She would be able to fake being nice to someone she didn't like. For a day, it was easy.

"I-I... I don't mind."

Cheryl seemed to relax and she held out a set of notes. Lacie took them and leafed through them. She squinted and made an annoyed noise. Hermione's writing was particularly tiny and neat and somehow, hard to revise from. Lacie gave one last smile to Cheryl and sat down beside her.

_If you can't fight them, join them._

* * *

><p>Maybe it was Harry becoming over suspicious, or maybe he forgot something or there was something wrong in general but he didn't feel <em>right<em>.

Maybe it was because of the lack of Lacie's presence around him that made the difference. Her stuck-up air no longer seemed to stifle him since she was knocking heads with Cheryl Twill in the Common Room. That itself didn't make a lot of sense since Harry felt more on edge than he would have normally have done.

Maybe it was the new aura of Hermione's thunderstorm mood she had been emitting since she had declared she no longer wanted to be friends with Lacie. After seeing Lacie helping Cheryl she became very irritable and flustered. She got goblin war dates wrong, and when corrected by Dean who was sitting near them reading Hermione's copied History of Magic notes, she shot him an infuriated glare which would have made a ghost stop dead.

"Friend-stealing quaffle head," Hermione was heard muttering under her breath as they left the History of Magic exam.

"I thought you didn't want to - …" Harry started, but he was punched in the arm by Ron. He shook his head at Harry to silence him.

"Oh, lighten up, Hermione," Ron said over Harry, "I bet you're just upset that exams are over."

Hermione sniffed at that, "They're not over, we've got a week until the results come out - ..."

"And you'll be the top of the year," Ron said rolling his eyes, "let's just relax for now."

"I can't help but feel that there's something I've missed," Harry said suddenly.

"Tell me about it," Ron said, looking at Harry with a horrified expression, "I'm sure that there was something in the Terms of the Warlock Convention of 1366 that involved mountain trolls."

"Mountain trolls were not permitted to venture out of their designated mountain ranges unless allowed to by a witch or wizard and if they did so, it was punishable by death," Hermione recited.

Harry pulled a face that felt as if it mirrored Ron's. He had forgotten that, but now that Hermione mentioned it he seemed to remember it slightly. The twinging of something wrong didn't seem to leave him despite knowing this new information.

"It's not that. It's something different."

"It's not your scar again is it?" Hermione asked, gulping with concern.

Harry absent-mindedly rubbed his forehead and grimaced, "I just want to know why it's doing this."

"Maybe danger's coming," Hermione said quietly. "Maybe something bad is going to happen."

Ron sighed, "Nothing bad is going to happen just after exams."

"And why's that?" asked Hermione raising an eyebrow and pouting at him. Harry wanted to ask the same question but Hermione had gotten there first.

"Because if Snape has to steal the Stone he's going to have to mark everyone's exam first," Ron said airily, "Unless he deliberately fails all of us, I don't see him marking the exams that quick."

"Look, if there's a chance to get the Stone, I doubt he cares about unmarked exams," Hermione said accompanied with a dark look.

"Oh lighten up, you two!" Ron exclaimed whilst loosening his tie. Harry couldn't lighten up even if the exams were over. Not whilst the prickling of his head continued. Ron continued, "Only Hagrid and Dumbledore knows how to get past Fluffy. Dumbledore would have never told anyone so unless Hagrid spilled the beans the Stone's safe. Hagrid would rather eat a baby dragon than betray Dumbledore's trust!"

"That's it!" Harry said, his eyes widening. Why hadn't he seen it before? He had asked himself it at the time! He began hurtling towards the direction of Hagrid's Hut, caring little if Hermione and Ron were following behind him. They were, because in the back of his mind he could hear them calling him but he wasn't really listening to them. He was focusing on this. He wasn't going to let this mishap loose. He was angry with himself for not seeing it sooner.

"What's wrong?" Hermione huffed as she and Ron caught up to him.

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I met him," Harry said hurriedly.

"So what! Harry!" Ron yelled as Harry picked up the pace.

"Hagrid's already told us too much because he likes us, what if he said too much because of a dragon egg he likes too much?" He turned to Ron, "You said so yourself! Dragon eggs are illegal, how many dragon dealers would just so happen to have a dragon egg in their pocket? How many people would let go of a dragon egg at a game of cards, especially a Norwegian Ridgeback!"

Norwegian Ridgebacks were rare! Harry should have seen this all along! Why hadn't be remembered it sooner? The twinging of something felt wrong was gone, this was the thing. This was the single thing that he had forgotten and his mind was so clear as he hammered on Hagrid's door.

"Wha'? Harry! Come ter see me righ' after yer exams? Yer a good lad," Hagrid said, "Come in, an' Ron an' Hermione, all of yers, come in."

"Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg?" Harry asked.

* * *

><p>It was Snape. Hermione didn't want to believe it but it was definitely Snape. Only Snape would use Slytherin tricks to incapacitate Hagrid's strong loyalty to Dumbledore. She was sure it was Snape.<p>

Even if it wasn't, she had already lost a friend to that belief. She had no choice _but _to believe that it was Snape who had given Hagrid the dragon egg in exchange for information about Fluffy.

"We have to go to Dumbledore and tell him everything we know," Hermione gulped as they raced back to the castle. Hermione didn't care that her legs were aching. She didn't care that there was a stitch in her side. She couldn't breathe. All of that didn't matter. What mattered was that You-Know-Who couldn't rise again. If You-Know-Who rose again Hermione led them to the fifth floor and flew past the troll and his candle. She stopped at the gargoyle.

She was sure that it could talk. She had never seen it speak before, but she had definitely heard it speak before. Probably the lack of oxygen in her head was affecting her judgement. It didn't matter. She was going to speak to the gargoyle. She had to try.

She could barely breathe but this was _important_.

"We have to see Dumbledore," Hermione gasped out. Harry and Ron nodded fervently behind her.

"You have to see Dumbledore, what?" the gargoyle replied dryly.

"We have to see Dumbledore, _please."_

"What's the password?"

Ron shoved Hermione out of the way, "There's a bloody password?"

The gargoyle looked at Ron as if he was above answering him. Or rather, the answer to his question had been so obvious he wasn't going to answer it.

"Could you tell us if Dumbledore is in his office?" Hermione asked politely.

The gargoyle turned to her, "The Headmaster received an Owl earlier today and is on his way to the Ministry."

"What for?" Harry demanded.

The gargoyle didn't speak again, this time, looking every inch more important than Harry to answer him.

Ron nudged Hermione. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him before asking, "Why has the Headmaster gone to the Ministry of Magic?"

The gargoyle turned to her yet again, "What the Headmaster does is none of your business, however, whatever he has gone for is for the welfare of the school and the well-being of its students."

Hermione turned away from the gargoyle with Harry and Ron flanked at her sides. There was nothing they could do. Dumbledore was already gone, which meant that the Stone was in ore danger than it had been before. Snape had sent the owl to Dumbledore posing as an important figure in the Ministry of Magic to lure Dumbledore away. It had to be tonight! Snape was going to get the Stone tonight.

"We have to do it, tonight," Harry said as they sat down at the Gryffindor Table.

Hermione gulped. Although she knew that each teacher was helping protect the Stone, there was no way of knowing how they were protecting the Stone. Ron looked pale beside her. He nodded. Hermione considered her options for a moment but there was nothing to consider at all. She frowned as she nodded at Harry.

"At least we already - ..." Hermione started but Lacie caught her attention. She was walking in front of her, behind Harry and stopped at her words. Hermione stopped speaking immediately but Lacie seemed to look at her in a strange manner. Lacie stared at her for a moment before going red and walking on, as if nothing had happened.

"What was that?" Ron asked Hermione.

Hermione shrugged. She honestly didn't know. One minute Lacie was acting like she wanted to be a friend and frostily the next. Hermione honestly didn't have a clue what she could do. She had done enough. Lacie didn't want to be her friend.

_Her loss_, Hermione sniffed in her head. She looked at the ceiling that was a bright sea blue, a mirror of the sky outside. It didn't seem like a day where she and Lacie weren't going to be friends and at the dead of night, they were going to be breaking probably a hundred rules and may get expelled. Something black flew in front of her eyes and Hermione followed the bird around the Hall.

"Bit late for Owl Post isn't it?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron.

Ron's face was dark as he muttered, "Not an owl. That is a rook."

"As in, Eltanin the rook?" Hermione asked, turning around to look at the Slytherin table. Malfoy had perked up at the appearance of his rook but his bird didn't fly to him. Eltanin, it seemed, had another idea. He flew directly to the Teacher's Table and started squawking and flapping.

Harry and Ron exchanged an amused look. Hermione hid a smile behind a raised fork.

"Looks like Malfoy is having bird problems," Harry said as he watched Eltanin cause a commotion by Quirrell and Snape. "The rook won't leave Snape alone."

"Maybe the rook will keep Snape away from the third floor," Hermione said looking at Snape trying to bat the bird away from him. She didn't want to tell Harry or Ron that rooks could predict death, or were attracted to death, which normally made them hugely unpopular.

She didn't want to tell Harry or Ron that there was a chance that Snape was going to die tonight according to Malfoy's irritating little rook. Hopefully, it would be because of something completely unrelated. Hopefully it wasn't going to be their fault at all.

But, if it _was_ because of them, Hermione didn't want to think about how she would play a part in murdering Lacie's precious Uncle Sev.

* * *

><p><em>Out of most the characters in Bright Star, after Lacie, one of my favourite characters is Eltanin, because he's different. He's not a common owl, and he's a rook that predicts death (!) haha :) <em>

_feedback is always appreciated :)_

_lots of love, becky x_


	17. It Is June, I Am Tired Of Being Brave

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: <strong>**It is June. I am tired of being brave.**

* * *

><p><strong>And what of the dead? They lie without shoes<br>in the stone boats. They are more like stone  
>than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse<br>to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.**

**Anne Sexton from **_**The Truth the Dead Know**_

* * *

><p>"Where are you going?" Lacie demanded, jumping up from a large armchair in front of the cold fireplace in the Common Room. Hermione felt like hitting herself in the face and Ron and Harry looked like they wanted to do the same to her. They had told her specifically to check that Lacie was in bed before sneaking down. Hermione had checked for a sleeping mass, but clearly, Lacie had just shoved a few pillows under her blanket and shaped them like herself.<p>

All of them had been caught red-handed because Hermione hadn't checked further. She should have made sure that Lacie was actually asleep before whispering up to the boys' dormitory for Harry and Ron to come down.

Part of Hermione was irritated that Lacie was trying to stop them, after spending so long not speaking to them. Part of her wanted Lacie to join them as she would be able to help them. She knew how important the Stone was. Lacie knew so much about Fluffy already, and she knew a lot about the Wizarding World that would be beneficial to them. Hermione was sure that Lacie's knowledge would be able to make up for the void in her own.

None of them wanted to answer her question. They all looked at the floor as if they were ashamed to have been caught so easily. For once, Hermione didn't have an answer. She looked at Ron as if he was going to be able to answer for her. After all, Ron was capable of making up a reasonable lie on the spot.

It was Harry who stepped up and answered for everyone else there, "I'm sure you know, Lacie."

"You can't," Lacie said but her voice had suddenly become weak as if she hadn't the strength to fight with them verbally anymore. Hermione felt like rolling her eyes for a moment. Lacie never would have admitted defeat so easily. She would have never portrayed herself as a weakling if she had a choice.

Hermione knew, she didn't know what exactly, but she knew that there was something up her silky sleeve. This was one of her elaborate acts to make Harry, Ron and Hermione to trust her and fall for her little plan.

It wasn't going to work. Hermione was sure of it. Anything Lacie said was going to go in one ear and out the other before someone signalled Hermione to '_take care of it_' as Ron put it earlier as they were going over their fool-proof plan to get out of the Common Room without alerting a Prefect.

"This is important, we're not playing around…" Hermione started but Lacie stopped her but moving one step forward.

"We'll lose points! We're last already in the running for the House Cup," Lacie said rather pathetically. Her tone was dwindling down to a meek squeak.

"Since when did you care about losing points?" Ron asked angrily, his face flushing red in the darkness surrounding them. "Didn't you think that we were all just Mudbloods and blood traitors?" He pointed at himself and Hermione with each respective insult that Lacie had hurled at them at the beginning of the year.

Lacie shook her head so violently that Hermione thought that he head was going to snap clean right off her neck. She looked mortified to be reminded of what she had been like in the beginning of the year.

"You're more than that," Lacie whispered, "You're my _friends_."

At that moment, Hermione realised that Lacie wasn't acting. Even though she was being incredibly cheesy and she wasn't acting like her normal self, she wasn't being fake at all. She was showing her true emotions for once and it was tumbling out of her with a series of tones and inflections that she wouldn't have normally used because she never showed raw emotion.

Hermione wanted to hug Lacie but there wasn't time to kiss and make up right now. Hermione held out a hand and said, "Come with us."

Hermione had made that decision without consulting Harry or Ron and they could be angry with her for doing so, but she didn't care. Lacie was part of their group and had to join their renegade mission even if she got them all into trouble or didn't fit underneath the Invisibility Cloak. There had to be room for one more.

Lacie looked at Hermione's had as if were alien and looked back at Hermione. Hermione's hand started to wobble in the air.

"I-I can't…" Lacie said in a wavering tone.

"You can, come with us," Hermione coaxed in a soothing tone. Lacie shook her head at her.

"I can't." A shake of the head. "I won't."

Hermione's arm dropped limply by her side and she looked at Lacie with a hurt expression. She really thought that Lacie would come with them. Obviously not.

"Then why are you here?" Harry asked angrily. Ron was also growing impatient beside him. They didn't like the idea of Lacie just blocking their way.

"I'm here to stop you before you get expelled and I'm left in Gryffindor all alone. I don't particularly like the rest of the year aside from you lot," Lacie pouted.

All the strength that she normally had had come rushing back. Her arrogance was present as she crossed her arms and Hermione knew that there was no way that Lacie was going to join them. Ron seemed to realise this too and his impatience had grown by too much. He elbowed Hermione and tilted his head. It was the secret signal. Hermione sighed. She _really _didn't want to do this.

"I'm so sorry, Lacie," Hermione said as she reached for the waistband of her skirt.

"What?"

Hermione pulled her wand out and pointed it at Lacie before Lacie had even answered her. "_Petrificus Totalus!"_

Lacie's arms and legs snapped together and she froze, paralysed by the curse, before falling backwards onto the hard floor. Hermione winced and hoped with every nerve on her body that Lacie hadn't felt a single thing. Hermione ran over to Lacie's side to make sure that she was fine, but all Lacie was doing, was giving Hermione a look that would probably body-bind her in a similar fashion too.

"I'm sorry, I had no choice."

Lacie glared at her and Hermione knew. Hermione knew she had another choice, which was not to go, but she couldn't pick that choice. Hermione apologised again before running away with Harry and Ron and disappearing under the Invisibility Cloak.

"She is going to hate me forever," Hermione wailed as they left the Common Room.

"Oh, come on," Harry and Ron said together and they hurried forwards.

x-x-x-x-x

"No, you can't!" Hermione shouted across the giant chessboard. So far, they had done exceedingly well. They had gotten past Fluffy by the skin of their teeth, because of Harry's haphazard flute playing. Then, Hermione had helped them get past the Devils' Snare but casting a spell so bright that it stunned the plant. Harry had flown brilliantly in the room before and they were currently trying to win their way across the chessboard.

Each obstacle was getting harder and harder and Hermione was finding it difficult to keep up.

Ron had just told them that he was going to have to be sacrificed. He was going to make a move, after making Hermione and Harry move the least so they would not be taken out of the game, whatever consequences that may have made.

"I have to, it's the only way!" Ron cried back, "I'll check the King, so the Queen will take me and that leaves Harry to checkmate the King."

"Ron…" Harry called.

"Look, Snape's going to get the Stone sooner or later and he's getting further away as we speak, Harry," Ron said angrily, "_You're _the one that has to get the Stone. Not me, or Hermione for that matter. You."

Hermione wanted to run over to Ron, but if she did that would forfeit the game. She could barely watch as the stone horse that Ron was riding moved with his order and stopped. With a horrible scraping noise on stone, Hermione heard the Queen chess piece that Ron was baiting move slightly. She watched through outstretched fingers as the piece moved closer and closer to Ron. Hermione saw Ron gulp and his pale face showed exactly how he was feeling. He turned a slightly green colour as the Queen raised her staff at him. Hermione snapped her fingers shut as she heard a horrible noise that sounded as if someone or something had just been stabbed. A moment passed after the sound of tumbling rocks and the echoes of Ron's cry had subsided before Hermione opened her fingers to a mass of dust. Her eyes were drawn at the broken mass that was being carried away from the board and she searched for something red within the grey. She found it. Ron lay unconscious as he was being hauled unceremoniously from the board itself.

Hermione moved forwards slightly only to be chastised by Harry. She remembered that she wasn't to move from her square until the game was over. She had to stay put until Harry could fulfil Ron's last moves. Hermione stayed still. She wasn't going to disrespect Ron by changing the moves he had told them to guarantee a win. Hermione watched as Harry moved diagonally towards the king and look at him with a defiant look.

"Checkmate."

For a moment, nothing happened. Hermione was afraid that for a moment, the piece wasn't to react at all. Actually the piece was not going to count Harry's victory. The pieces were going to cheat. Then, king fell. There was a crashing noise as the King tipped on the heels of his feet and fell backwards in surrender. They had won the game as Ron had predicted. The Queen and the rest of the opposing pieces bowed at them before tending to their broken. The pieces on their side jumped about before going about high-giving each other in their victory. They were allowed to pass. Finally.

But Harry and Hermione weren't concerned about their win. As soon as the King fell, they ran over to Ron who was on the edges of the chessboard. He was covered in dust but thankfully he was still breathing. Hermione wiped a little dust from his face before sniffing to stop herself from bursting into tears.

"Oh, Ronald," Hermione said, dusting his knitted jumper and grimacing. She pulled at a loose thread before snapping it off and grimacing even further.

"Hermione..."

"I don't want to just leave him alone," Hermione said quietly. Harry nodded in agreement before calling over an intact pawn to guard Ron's body from anyone who wanted to disturb it. Hermione knew that she didn't want to leave Ron alone but she had no choice. She and Harry had to move on and get the Stone before Snape.

Hermione looked back to look at Ron's unconscious body several times as they went to the door behind the white chess pieces. The pawn was looking at them and was swatting his stone sword around to keep people away from Ron as Harry had told it to. Harry pulled on Hermione's hand and took her, by her hand, forwards. When Hermione turned towards him, he had a sympathetic look on his face that explained everything. He didn't want to leave Ron alone either but he had done his part as a knight. Hermione knew Harry needed her help beyond anything else and they had no idea what else lay beyond the chessboard. Hermione smiled grimly back before wiping some dust off the side of Harry's face.

It took the strength of Harry and Hermione to pull the iron door to the next room open. They heaved and it groaned like a tired person as it opened. When the door was open, they dived into the next room and it stank. Horribly.

"What do you think happened here?" Harry asked as he looked through a heap of burlap sacks that were shoved in the corner of the room. Hermione's nose crinkled as she neared it. She had never approached something so smelly in her life. Aside from probably one occasion.

"It smells of troll in here," Hermione said pulling a disgusted face and saying with absolute certainty. Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"How do you know what troll smells like?" Harry said with a smile playing on his thin lips.

"When you're trapped with a troll in the girls bathroom, and Lacie can't think of a spell to subdue it you can get rather close to one," Hermione said, "They smell awful."

"I'll take your word for it," Harry said pinching his nose from the smell. "It smells of troll but there's no trolls in here."

"Maybe this was Snape's task," Hermione wondered, "We have had protection from Professors Sprout and Flitwick and I would guess it was McGonagall's chess board back there. Do you think that the troll at Halloween lived here?"

"So he used his defence to try and distract everyone else so he could steal the Stone at Halloween," Harry said. "Seeing as there's no troll..."

"Let's go. It smells rancid," Hermione muttered. She didn't need Harry's agreement or Harry to ask her to leave. Harry didn't need telling twice. They rushed to the door of the next task.

This door was a lot easier to open and upon revealing it, they saw a long corridor that was lit only by small candles in brackets attached to the thin walls. They walked across the room and Hermione could see a bench in the centre of the corridor as if it had appeared by magic. Hermione walked towards it with Harry following closely behind. Hermione looked at the bench before touching it.

Suddenly, with a loud whooshing noise, two walls of thick mist appeared behind them and in front of them. Hermione went to move away from the bench and back to the room before but Harry stopped her with his arm. He narrowed his eyes at the mist before taking off his too large jumper and throwing it into the mist.

It burst into flames the second it touched the mist and vaporised in it's own heat. Hermione gasped.

"How did you -...?"

"It happens all the time in Muggle movies," Harry explained. "I bet the other side would do the same too."

"So we try and find a way to get through this task," Hermione sighed as she looked at the two walls of mist that would burn them instantly without leaving a trace. Hermione touched the bench again and saw that there were different vials lining the length of the bench that she hadn't noticed before. There were small ones next to round ones, next to coloured ones in between colourless ones. In the centre of the bench, there was a rolled up bit of parchment that looked rather worn and for some reason, weather-beaten.

"What's that?" Harry asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder. He could barely do so, having to stand on his tiptoes to read the parchment over Hermione's shoulder.

"_Hero, you have succeeded, but the battle is not yet won,  
>You have to pass this test and there is more to come.<br>In front of you, you can see what will send you on your way,  
>Failure to find it and here you'll forever stay.<br>Two of them are fatal and will send you to eternal sleep,  
>Three of them are harmless but could make sober men weep.<br>One of them will force you to face your greatest fear,  
>Of which you must overcome, and to your goal you'll near.<br>The last vial on this bench will send you one step back,  
>Closer to the beginning but you will be left intact.<br>Here are some clues to start you on your test,  
>If you do not use your head, here you'll inevitably rest.<br>Think outside the box, before you even begin,  
>What looks harmless at first sight, something deadly lies within.<br>Do not be deceived by size or beauty of the jar,  
>As the one you are looking for, is plain and not afar.<br>Next is one for the seasoned, not the stomachs that are weak,  
>What smells vile and putrid, is not the one you seek.<br>Finally, two are twins in nature but so far apart,  
>One will send you forwards, the other to the start."<em>

"What-…?"

"This is a test of logic," Hermione said excitedly as she read the verse over and over again. "This is brilliant."

"What do we do?" Harry asked, looking at the bottles and picking one up, "Drink one?"

"No!" Hermione said, snatching the bottle out of his hand. "That could be poison or something else entirely."

"So what does the parchment say?" Harry asked, taking the sealed bottle from Hermione's hand and placing it on the bench again. Hermione paced the length of the bench and counted the bottles. Seven.

"That two of them will kill us," Hermione said darkly, prodding at a random bottle. She looked at the parchment and her eyebrows furrowed, "We just have to figure out which ones those are."

Hermione placed the parchment onto the bench and stared at it. Harry used a finger to pivot it around and he read it, squinting several times as he did so.

"One would take us through that wall of mist," Harry said pointing in the direction opposite to where they had come from. Hermione looked at the swirling mist wall. It was horrible, like something was burning and giving off smoke but there was nothing there to _see_.

"No," Hermione corrected, "One would take us to a nightmare or something which we have to conquer or else we stay stuck here."

"Which one?"

"Well, we can disregard this one," Hermione said pushing the central one away from the straight line the bottles were in. "It's far to pretty."

"Do not be deceived by size or beauty of the jar," Harry recited. Hermione nodded in response. She walked along the bench, Harry walking the length on the opposite side, and considered each bottle.

She needed to think outside of the box for this, the parchment had said so. Hermione tried to hide her frustration with concentration. She hated being told to think outside the box. What was wrong with the box? The box could be as big as it wanted, stored whatever it wanted but people always seemed to think that there should be an outside. A box was far too _limited_. Hermione sighed. Where could thinking out of the box get her at this present time? Thinking about things she knew would be more beneficial compared to the unknown.

She went back to where Harry had left the parchment and read it again.

"What smells vile and putrid…" Hermione said in a dazed voice before ripping off the tops of bottles and sniffing them gingerly. Nothing stood out. Harry stood at the right end of the bench and did the same. He sniffed heavily and coughed.

Hermione rushed over and with caution, smelt the contents of the bottle he was holding. Hermione raised an eyebrow as a familiar smell rushed through her nostrils and she breathed the scent in deeply.

"This doesn't smell putrid," she commented.

"Putrid?"

"Like its off, or rotting," Hermione explained quickly.

"It's not off but it's vile," Harry said pulling a face and putting it back on the bench.

"It's _malt whiskey_," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes, "Not vile. Dad used to decant it all the time."

"It smells of Aunt Marge," Harry said quickly. He looked up at Hermione like a deer in headlights and went a deep shade of red. He didn't elaborate on his Aunt Marge and kept quiet like he always did when conversations moved onto family. Just like Hermione didn't like to tell people why she didn't like to be called a know-it-all, Harry didn't like to talk about the Dursleys.

Harry continued to sniff the other bottles and found that two others made him want to cough intensely. Hermione looked at him before staring at the parchment.

"Sober men!"

"What about them sober men?" Harry asked her and his green eyes bored into Hermione's face.

"Why are men sober?" Hermione question him.

"Because…?"

"They're not drunk! Some people drink to forget and being sober would make them remember what they want to forget and make them upset - …" Hermione trailed off before gasping out again. "What if, the word putrid doesn't mean that it is rotting but it means that the thing itself is rotten?"

"So…"

"What if it's something that makes people morally corrupt or, _putrid_?"

"Are we still talking about the malt whiskey?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded, "Which ones are the malt whiskey?"

Harry looked at her strangely before pointing at the three bottles that had the malt whiskey. Hermione pushed them out of the original line like she had done with the pretty jar. That left three more plain bottles on the bench. One was colourless, one a pale blue and the other a pale green.

"Does it say anything about colours?" Harry asked, staring the bottles.

"No," Hermione said, tucking a curl behind her ear. "It doesn't say anything."

"Can we assume that because the green is on the right, it will take us forwards?" Harry said.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, "This isn't a guessing game! There is no strategy to this, it is pure _logic_."

"Then, tell me, Hermione, what do we do?" Harry said, "This is where we can't go forwards! We found probably one poison, three wines and we have to find out which one would take us forwards."

Hermione huffed, "This is completely like Snape."

"How?"

"Remember the first Potions lesson we had? How he said that Potions separated geniuses from dunderheads? This test is like that, like we have to use our heads not intuition and we can't do anything wrong because if we change the order of adding an ingredient, we can make a poison," Hermione recalled, "This has to be Snape's task."

"That means that Snape is protecting the Stone," Harry said slowly. But that doesn't mean that he isn't trying to steal the Stone."

"Either way, we have to think like Snape to move on," Hermione said.

"The green one would take us forwards because it's his House colour."

Hermione swatted Harry in the arm, "Head over heart!"

"Right," Harry said, rubbing where Hermione had hit him, "I'm just saying."

"Snape isn't like that, he clearly favours his own House, _everyone _knows that, but we have to remember that Snape is using this to test us to our limits, he does that every day," Hermione said. "Everything he says…"

"What is _that_?" Harry said, as he lifted the bottle with the pale blue liquid in it.

"_Lumos," _Hermione said and pointed her wand-tip at the bottle Harry was holding. "Is that me, or is it an L?"

Hermione looked at the bottle that Harry passed to her, engraved with the lightest of scratches, there was an L near the bottom of the bottle. To anyone who wasn't staring at it intently, looking desperately for a clue, they probably wouldn't have seen it.

"Is this a clue?" Hermione asked. She and Harry picked up the two remaining bottles and looked at them. Hermione was holding the pale green one when she saw the faint "D" in the light of her wand. She pointed this out to Harry who frowned at her. She passed it to Harry and he put it on the bench.

"An L and a D out of context," Harry sighed.

"Not out of context, maybe these are the two twins in nature because they're the only ones with colour and scratches on them," Hermione said. "An L and a D, two potions, which one takes us forwards?"

"Out of context," Harry repeated, pushing his glasses up his nose and frowning.

"This is a _clue_," Hermione said, "Snape must have known that we were going to go after the Stone and he's trying to say something."

"What? That L stands for left, which is the way back and D, is for directly forwards? Hermione, I don't think so."

"Twins in nature, but so far apart," Hermione read off the parchment, "Twins."

"What twins? Fred and George? Parvati and Padma -?"

"Lacie and Draco? L and D!" Hermione said excitedly.

"Alright, Lacie and Draco, so lets think of possibilities that could possibly be related, without using instincts," Harry said sarcastically, "There is no logic to this now."

"Yes there is," Hermione snapped, "If we think like Snape, we could find out which one we need."

"There isn't, neither of them are related to this!"

"Think outside the box!"

"How _logical_ can outside the box be?"

Hermione bit back a retort and composed herself, "We shouldn't argue like this. We need to work together."

Harry's green eyes flashed at her for a moment before he took a shaky breath, "You're right. What do you think?"

"Lacie would want us to finish this task, she would want us to go forwards. Snape is telling us that we need to choose this bottle."

"Snape is helping us now all of a sudden?" Harry asked, "Why?"

"Maybe because he's not stealing the Stone…" Hermione said, her eyebrows felt as if they were sewing themselves together because of how close she was forcing them, "What if Hagrid was right and Snape was protecting the Stone like he said?"

Hermione didn't want to add that Lacie had also been right. That omission seemed to hang in the air around them. Hermione didn't meet Harry's eyes, as she was sure that he was thinking the same thing. They often did that, almost scarily as if they could exclusively read the other's mind.

"Let's say that Snape knew that we were going to come, if we think about it logically, that means that he wants us to pick Lacie. He knows that Lacie would help us if she were here," Hermione said and she picked up the bottle with the light blue liquid.

"That looks like Neville's potion," Harry said, "The one he made wrong."

"He didn't make something wrong," Hermione said rolling her eyes, "I looked it up. The way he had added the rats' tails before the unicorn hair made it a sleeping potion rather than a Tooth-Strengthening potion."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Trust you to look it up."

"Snape put me in detention with Malfoy and I sprained my ankle, I had to find something to throw in his face," Hermione replied, swirling the bottle. "Snape is telling me something here."

"You?"

"Well, _you_, us."

"Alright, let say that this is a sleeping potion - …"

"Nightmares, what we fear…" Hermione added and stared at the bottle, "this _has _to be the one."

"One of them will force you to face your greatest fear/Of which you must overcome, and to your goal you'll near," Harry read of the parchment, "Here, let me."

Hermione moved back with the bottle, "No."

"What do you mean, _no_?"

"I can't let you drink this potion," Hermione said, holding it tightly as Harry moved towards her with his hands outstretched.

"Why?" He asked with the tone of a petulant child. Hermione raised an eyebrow at his tone.

"Because there are nightmares in your life that can't be compared to mine."

"Like what?"

"Surviving You-Know-Who when you were a baby," Hermione answered, "What if you had to see him again, and he really kills you? I can't live with that guilt."

"I already survived him once," Harry said, a little arrogantly but in a soothing tone. Hermione didn't seem convinced.

"Yes, but nobody knows why," she said quietly, "Harry, you weren't supposed to live after You-Know-Who marked you and that's why I can't let you face him again. No one knows if you'll live again if he tries to kill you again."

Harry looked pensively at her for a moment and frowned at her as if he disapproved. "I hate this."

Hermione smiled despite herself, "I know."

"You have to stay strong, Hermione, give it everything you have," Harry said, holding onto her hand across the bench. Hermione felt it's warmth and looked at it on her before blushing and pulling her hand away childishly. She couldn't imagine the idea of a body touching her hand! She moved back from the bench so he couldn't do it again and she nodded.

"Don't worry, Harry. I won't let you down."

She wasn't going to let Harry down with this. She wasn't going to let Ron down, as he had fallen so valiantly before her. If he had been that brave against the white Queen, Hermione was surely ready for anything that Snape wanted her to face. In fact, she was more than ready. She was going to prove to Lacie that she was strong and not stupid and going after the Stone was the right idea to do.

Hermione held onto the bottle tightly and was shaking as she raised it to her lips. As soon as the liquid touched her tongue, she sank in a deep slumber, where her conscious felt as if had fallen down a rabbit hole. She didn't even manage to taste what the potion tasted like. Right now, she was Alice and she didn't know what she was going to have to encounter to get the answer to the right vial.

Right now she was scared. And brave. But mostly scared.

She landed on concrete softly but even then, she buckled under the unnaturalness of the area, and fell to her knees. Somehow, the ground under her didn't even graze her knee. She composed herself for a moment and then stood up. She smirked. This wasn't the alleged nightmare that she was supposed to have been coming to. The bottle promised a land of deep despair and yet she was safe.

"Hermione."

Hermione looked up and saw, in the distance, a girl with long blonde hair.

_Lacie_. Hermione stood up and ran to her. _If Lacie is here, then it can't be too bad!_

As she ran she realised that she wasn't wearing her Hogwarts uniform, neither was the blonde-haired girl. She was wearing her old school uniform. She took a step back and the blonde haired girl turned around with a vindictive smile on her face.

"Hello, Hermione."

"L-Lauren!"

"So you still remember me?" she whispered but Hermione could hear her as if she had said it down her ear.

"I-I...!"

The girl convulsed and her hands wrapped themselves around Hermione's neck. She forced Hermione against a wall that Hermione had no idea was there.

"Lauren! Leave me alone!" Hermione whimpered.

"I will never leave you alone," she laughed, "I am your everything. What you are is because of me!"

Hermione struggled to speak, "N-No! I-I did this my-my-self!"

"If I hadn't treated you they way I did, do you think you would have grown a backbone?" Lauren growled, tightening her grip. Hermione couldn't breathe! Hermione punched out. By chance, it hit Lauren in the shoulder. She staggered back, her hands slipping off her neck. Hermione flailed. She needed to breathe. It came in painfully but her throat was so sore!

She staggered before falling to the ground on her knees whilst clutching her throat.

"You can't escape me," Lauren said in a low voice and laughing out loud, "You're mine."

"Why?" Hermione asked, "Why me?"

"I hate girls like you," Lauren said staggering back. "Little know-it-alls who want attention from everyone!"

"I know things because I read and study!"

"You're a freak! Normal girls shouldn't stay home and read, but you like it, don't you? You're my little know-it-all freak!" Lauren said, half-mad.

"Don't call me a know-it-all!" Hermione screamed, "I'm not a know-it-all!"

"But you are!" Lauren cackled, raising a clenched fist. "Know. It. All."

With every word came a punch and Hermione felt the wind leave her lungs as Lauren kept hitting her.

And hitting her. And hitting her. And hitting her.

Hermione could feel imprints of the slaps and punches on her skin as if she was branded with Lauren all over her body. She could feel bones buckle in her, her skull felt on the brink of explosion and Hermione couldn't fight back with all the pain.

She was a dying phoenix who was about to go out in a burst of flames.

It took a moment for Lauren to tire out and she fell back. She pulled out something from her pocket. It shone in the light. Her following laugh was filled with mirth.

"Do you remember this?" Lauren asked, she brought it close to Hermione's face, "I still have this."

"W-What…?" Hermione couldn't speak or think properly and barely had strength to finish sentences.

"Do you not remember?" Lauren asked innocently, her bright blue eyes were round with a slither of sadness that was quickly replaced by her normal guiltless expression. "It's the tooth I pulled out for you."

Hermione remembered that day, Lauren had sat on her in the playground and found a wobbly tooth, and demanded to be the dentist to pull it out. She sat on her now and Hermione squirmed under her. Lauren grinned at her. Hermione felt herself grow more and more sick.

"What did you tell your parents you did?" Lauren asked.

"I said-said…!"

"Said what Hermy-one?" Lauren taunted her.

"Swallow…"

Lauren cackled. "It's time for that to come true."

"No!" Hermione gasped, "Don't!"

Lauren replied by cackling and forcing her mouth open. Hermione felt herself open her mouth as if she wasn't in control of herself. She felt something in her mouth and Lauren covered her mouth.

"Swallow it!"

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to swallow her tooth that was taken from her. What if Lauren had put something on it, and poisoned it? What if Lauren was fulfilling the last words that she had said to Hermione?

"_I'll kill you! If it's the last thing I do to you, know it, know-it-all, I'll kill you!" _

Hermione kept shaking her head but she was choking. The tooth was at the back of her throat and was threatening to go down her throat. She rolled around but Lauren was still sitting on her and enjoying every second of pain and discomfort that Hermione was going through.

She was just so tired.

If Lauren wanted to finish her, she may as well let her do it now. She was sick of everything. She was a know-it-all. Lauren was right.

Hermione could never win. Lauren would always win.

"_You're the only one I need, Hermione, you're so strong."_

_I'm not strong! I'm weak! I can't fight Lauren! I can never escape her! _Hermione was screaming in her head.

"_You seem to be the only one to put up with Draco, even though he bullies you."_

_He doesn't bully me! Bullying is much worse. It's my nightmare! It is what frightens me!_

"_You're my best friend."_

"She's your only friend," Lauren said with twisted smile. "But she doesn't even like you, it's because you're a know-it-all and she pities you. She's going to hate you because you cursed her."

Hermione couldn't speak or she would swallow her tooth.

"Harry and Ron don't even like you, its because you help them with their exams."

_It's not true! It's not true!_

"You're here because Harry is too scared to face Voldemort again in this dreamland, so he forced you here and now you can stay here with me forever."

_No! I wanted to do this! I knew what I was getting myself into! _

"You'll never win, I'll always be here in the back of your mind. I was the one who introduced you to the harsh reality of this world, my freakish know-it-all."

_I'm not yours! _

"You cannot escape me," Lauren said, twisting her fingers in Hermione's hair. "Stay with me, and I'll teach you more about what it feels to feel hurt and betrayed."

Lauren was right. She would never escape Lauren. Lauren made her who she was right now. If it wasn't for Lauren, Hermione would never had gone into the Malfoy train carriage with newfound courage and she wouldn't have met Lacie. She wouldn't have been able to stand up to Malfoy calling her a Mudblood. She knew pain because of Lauren. She felt hurt when people called her a know-it-all. She knew betrayal because of what Lauren did to her.

It wasn't about being tired of it all, it was about being tired of being the punch bag and the object of Lauren's irrational hatred.

Hermione shoved Lauren off her with as much force she could. She toppled off her easily and Hermione scrambled to her feet and spat out the tooth that Lauren wanted her to choke on and eventually swallow. That tooth was no longer hers, she had no right to keep it in her mouth for any longer. Lauren could keep it as a trophy of her cruelty.

"You won't win, Lauren," Hermione said, "You never did."

Hermione somehow regained the strength to speak and to fight back. Her arms and legs didn't feel like lead anymore and her body responded to her as if it knew that she was going to fight back. It knew that she needed to overcome this task in order to get to the Stone.

That's what mattered.

"I won! I did! I got you into hospital! I won!"

"I recovered, I got you expelled, I got your parents to see you for what you really are, I won!" Hermione said with narrowed eyes. "I'm not your sorry victim anymore!"

Lauren stood up and ran, like a bullet, to her. Hermione dodged her as if by instinct, like she was merely a spell that had been shot at her by Malfoy. Hermione wasn't going to fall asleep and let the pain come to her, she was going to react to it and make a difference. Lauren collided with a recently materialised wall behind her. She shrieked in pain and fell to her knees.

"You can't escape me!"

"I don't want to, you're right. You made me who I am, because of you, I can stand up to people like you."

"So hit me!" Lauren said in a small voice, "hit me like I've hit you. You can barely breathe properly, hit me so I can't breathe too! Kill me! I know you want to! Put me in hospital, like I did to you!"

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "As much as I would want to hurt you like you hurt me, I'm not you, Lauren. I really do know-it-all. I know that hitting you in revenge makes me as bad as you. As admired as you were for pushing me around, I wouldn't want to be you in a million years."

"Why?"

"Because if I'm like you, I lose. Goodbye, Lauren."

It was what Hermione wanted to say to Lauren all along. Bullies like her never won. She had never let Draco Malfoy win a fight against her and she shouldn't have thought that Lauren was any different. Lauren sat against the wall, slightly feral looking and glared at Hermione.

With a blink of an eye, Lauren was gone and in her place was a vial of a liquid. Hermione picked it up and looked at it.

"...Hermione?"

Hermione opened her eyes groggily. Her face felt like it had been punched several times. Her whole body ached and her neck was raw with pain. She coughed as she sat up and her chest was really sore when she did so. She remembered being hit repeatedly but she didn't remember having the wind literally sucked out of her chest.

"Potion," Hermione said holding out a tiny vial in her hand. It even hurt to speak! She couldn't see Harry as her vision was a little blurry. She saw something swoop in and something took the bottle from her hand. It was gone and Hermione could only feel her empty palm.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry! I saw you thrashing and screaming and talking and I tried to wake you up but it made it worse! It was really bad! Oh, Hermione," Harry said, his voice seemed to be going in and out and changing volume and pitch. Was his voice breaking or something? "Then I saw bruises on your face come out magically, what happened, are you alright?"

"Just go…" Hermione said slowly. Her eyelids felt heavy, like she wanted to sleep desperately.

"I can't just leave you here!"

"Remember what Ron said, it's you we need to get the Stone." Hermione groaned. She wished it didn't ache so much to speak. Harry seemed to need a lot of coaxing in order to get moving.

"Alright, I'll-I'll go now, but stay safe!"

"Be careful, you don't know who it is, but it's not Snape."

"I know," Harry said, his voice completely faded out as the pain went away.

Hermione went into a dreamless, black sleep where everything was fine and nothing hurt anymore. She felt nothing and somewhere there was a breaking of a connection.

* * *

><p>Lacie had never wanted to swat a fly more in her life.<p>

It wasn't as if the fly was being innocent and sitting on the wall. It was asking to be swatted with the palm of Lacie's hand. It buzzed about, fair enough, it was a fly and that was what fly's did but then it flew on her nose. Lacie blinked, going cross-eyed as she watched the fly flitter up and down her nose. It flew away before flying back onto her nose and tickling it as well as forcing a chill down her spine.

It flew off and on for a duration of ten minutes. That was more than enough to irritate Lacie. She wanted to kill it and savour it's blood in her fingers. That was a disgusting exaggeration but that was how annoyed she was. She tried breaking out of the curse by moving but Hermione was far too good for her own good. Lacie was bound and couldn't move.

The fly flew on her nose and off.

Then on.

And off.

Then on.

Lacie forced herself to reach for the fly.

No avail.

Then off.

Then on.

Lacie's hand moved across her nose and the fly zoomed off to find another target to annoy. Lacie was about to put her hand back when she realised that she could move her arm. It wasn't just her arm, but her other arm and the rest of her body. Lacie stood up and accessed her movement capability and she knew she was perfectly fine as if someone had uttered a counter-curse.

Lacie looked around the Common Room and aside from her and the fly, there was no one else.

Lacie knew that in her gut there was something deadly wrong. Hermione's curse had been perfect, OWL standard at best. There was no way that Lacie could have broken out of that curse unless she was a fully-trained Auror or she was incredibly lucky, or something bad had happened to Hermione. Being as negative as possible, she immediately went to think that Hermione was in trouble.

_Good for her, she didn't listen to you_, a horrible Malfoy-like voice said in the back of her mind.

Lacie knew that the voice was wrong. There was something too wrong. Lacie knew that she had been in the wrong, having asked Hermione to stop in order to protect her Uncle Sev. She should have helped or said something. She could have told them how to get past Cerberus. They had done everything themselves. Lacie wondered if there would be a place for her in their happy threesome after they had returned.

If something had happened to Hermione, could Lacie live with the fact that she could have helped but she didn't? Could Lacie live with how much pain and suffering that Hermione went through and Ron and Harry had to witness it all? Lacie could remember when Draco cast that spell on Hermione and Lacie could still feel guilt for it. She should have stepped in the way of the spell or cast a counter curse, or pushed Hermione out of the way.

Instead, Hermione got hurt and woke up in agony.

Lacie realised that she was going to do something. She didn't know what, but she had to go to the third-floor corridor first. She ran through the Portrait Hole and waited for the stairs to move to take her to the right place.

She didn't even get to the corridor when she saw someone else moving up the stairs.

"Miss Malfoy!"

Lacie turned around in the direction of stairs all moving in sync to let one person walk to his destination easier.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

"Harry's gone hasn't he?" The Headmaster said gravely.

Lacie nodded in response, as she couldn't say anything in her fear that something terribly wrong had happened down there.

"Stay here and watch the corridor, do not let anyone else come near this corridor tonight."

Lacie nodded again as the Headmaster swept away in a swirl of elegant yet heavy robes.

Lacie felt important, useful and she was powerful to be asked of such a privileged task of the Headmaster and smiled as she leaned against the door to the third floor corridor.

However, a little part of Lacie fumed that the Headmaster had _no _right to tell her to act like some sort of guard dog. She was a _Malfoy_ for heaven's sake not a guardian to the Underworld, which just happened to be right behind a few doors into the corridor.

* * *

><p><em>This is the penultimate chapter to Bright Star :(:( haha, I'm sorry for the later than usual update - during Christmastime my shifts go all over the place. <em>

_I know it's a looong chapter, but I couldn't split it, because all of it fit so nicely together it would have been strange to split it. _

_Oh and finally Lauren. You'll hear more about __Lauren later, but she's essentially Hermione's childhood nightmare, and I didn't have to add this but I wanted Hermione to do something heroic for the team (girl power!). It's also one of the first things I wrote, it was the one of the few things that wasn't re-edited, content wise. It was only de-cheesed and I was happy to go :P_

_I might update Christmas Day, with the last chapter depending how I feel, but if I don't, have yourselves a Merry Christmas my loyal readers, and I hope everything goes right for you this Christmas (Santa, slip Draco Malfoy under my tree, thanks :P)_

_Love, Becky x_


	18. There was an Unwanted Child

****_Disclaimer to JK Rowling_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: There was an Unwanted Child<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Rocks were placed on her to keep<br>the growing silent,  
>and though they bruised,<br>they did not kill,  
>though kill was tangled into her beginning.<strong>

**Anne Sexton from **_**End, Middle, Beginning**_

* * *

><p>"You. Are. An. <em>Idiot!"<em> Lacie shouted as she stormed into the Hospital Wing just as Hermione stirred and was trying to get up. Knowing Lacie, she had probably waited all day and night to breeze in at the right time.

"Lacie?" Hermione was too tired and the world was spinning around her to fast for her to process what was going on around her. All Hermione could think of was how she was going to try not and be sick all over herself, even when she wasn't trying to speak.

"Don't act as if I don't know, Hermione," Lacie said angrily.

"I didn't mean to curse you, I told you…"

"I'm not on about the Body-Bind curse, although we'll talk about it later, I'm talking about Lauren Fullkomna!" Lacie exclaimed, raising the attention of Madam Pomfrey. Instead of coming over to relieve Hermione of being disturbed by Lacie, the matron tucked an unconscious Harry into bed a bit more. Hermione tried not to insult Madam Pomfrey profusely in her head but she didn't call her over to try and save the situation.

The last person that she wanted to talk about Lauren with was Lacie.

"What about her?" Hermione tried to keep the conversation concise and brief.

"How about the fact that she bullied you and got you into hospital?" Lacie said in a stage whisper.

Hermione wished she didn't look as mortified as she felt, "How do _you_ know?"

"At least give me some respect, whatever happened down there with Fluffy and Quirrell isn't exactly a secret. The whole school knows," Lacie said rolling her eyes, "That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me about what this Lauren girl did to you."

"Why do you want to know?" Hermione asked, feeling far too sick to even think about the past.

"If you talk about it, it makes you feel better," Lacie shrugged, "Madam Pomfrey told me so. Plus, I'm your best friend. If I was being bullied you would want me to tell you."

Hermione moved her face closer to Lacie's and whispered quietly, "You're my first friend."

Lacie moved her mouth towards Hermione's ear and whispered back, "You're my first friend too."

Hermione didn't know how but it all came tumbling out. Hermione told Lacie that she looked a lot like Lauren Fullkomna, which was part of the reason why she had felt so scared and upset the moment that she had first saw her on the train and why Hermione had reacted the way she had done to Lacie when Lacie called her a Mudblood at the beginning of term. She told Lacie how Lauren used to taunt her and call her the know-it-all. It hadn't been a compliment, but rather a brand that Hermione was forced to wear every single day that she was in Lauren's vicinity.

Hermione told everyone about what Lauren was saying to her but everyone wanted to believe that Lauren was perfect. And she was. Hermione couldn't tell anyone how much she idolised her bully, how much she wanted to be as lithe, beautiful and charismatic as Lauren. She admitted shamefacedly that she wanted this of Lacie too and how much she envied Lacie being a ballet dancer.

Then Hermione started being hit. At first it was an accidental scratch across the face. Then, as Lauren grew more frustrated and the thrill of hitting someone became addictive, things became more violent.

Hermione never knew why Lauren hated her so much at the time. She never knew why so many of her classmates took so much delight in making hurtful comments to her. They chanted know-it-all to her. It wasn't a brand or a label anymore, it was Hermione's new name. Her things would be stolen and her name would be scribbled out and replaced with 'know-it-all'. Her PE kit was graphitised with the insult.

When Hermione fainted at the sight of blood during a science experiment, her classmates thought it would be funny to write it on her head. Teachers found it funny too.

Hermione joked around it. Forced a smirk whenever someone called her it and giggled it off when she saw a reflection of herself with black letters on her forehead. But when she got home and scrubbed off every incriminating bit she sat in her room and cried.

She could never tell her parents. Who would believe her that teachers called her a know-it-all when she recited from memory something out of a textbook or corrected a teacher's notes on the blackboard? Who would believe those three words would make a living hell out of three words.

Hermione later found out, after being hospitalised with a broken nose and rib, a fractured wrist and two dislocated joints that it was because Lauren's parents compared Hermione against her. Brains against beauty. It seemed as if Mr and Mrs Fullkomna hated that their daughter was so pretty and used it to get nowhere in classes, whereas Hermione was breezing by and was working on secondary school syllabuses. Hermione was clever, and Lauren's parents liked that. They wanted Lauren to follow in their footsteps, to become barristers, which they couldn't visualise Lauren becoming. They wanted Hermione to tutor Lauren, but Lauren refused and tried to drive the know-it-all from school so Lauren would stop being compared.

That was the reason. Lauren was perfect everywhere else, except her parent's eyes. That meant that Hermione had to be punished, for being the daughter that they couldn't have.

Lauren pitted every classmate against her, using anecdotes, causing trouble and asking everyone how sick they were of being compared to Hermione. Few of them weren't bothered. Others where influenced by Lauren, and that was how the vicious circle began. No one thought that it was wrong, until Hermione was taken out of school and was home educated for the rest of the term before coming to Hogwarts.

Hogwarts had been her saviour. It was her escape from Lauren and every other person that picked on her.

Hermione had never made a friend before which made everything that happened to her with Lauren over the course of two years, much, much harder to live with.

Lacie cried as Hermione cried when she recounted the time that Lauren had pulled her tooth out. Hermione felt the horrible gush of blood in her mouth every time she thought of that tooth. Her tongue immediately went for the gap that was there but had been filled in by an adult tooth. Hermione remembered the blood that choked her and how Lauren passed the tooth around like it was some sort of trophy of victory.

"I don't know how someone can be so horrible," Lacie said, sniffing, "What did your parents say?"

"Nothing," Hermione said, "I never told them."

Lacie reached for Hermione and pulled her into a tight hug, "Oh, _Hermione_."

"Down there, we had to face our nightmares," Hermione whispered, "and I saw her."

"Is that why you say her name in your sleep?"

"I wish I didn't."

"I'm so sorry," Lacie said quietly.

"For what?"

"For not realising sooner," she answered. For some reason, her hands were clasped on the edge of the bed as if she were praying. She hid her face behind her fine hair so Hermione had no idea what she was doing.

"I'm sorry too," Hermione said, sitting up and leaning against the metal headboard.

"What for?"

"I should have never used a curse against you," Hermione explained with sad look, "I'll never do it again."

"Too right!" Lacie said, her grey eyes widening quicker than she could imagine and crossing her arms before leaning back in her chair, "A Malfoy never forgets."

"Or forgives, or apologises, or lets themselves be so stupid to be hit by a… Muggle-born," a drawl crept up on them and Hermione met the gaze of Draco Malfoy. "But somehow, Lacie-Lace, you manage to do it all and be… a _Malfoy_."

"This is a Hospital Wing, not a clubroom, Malfoy," Hermione said in a disparaging tone. Lacie nudged Hermione in the thigh and Hermione gave her a dirty look before saying with a forced smile, "How are you today?"

"I've been better."

"Draco, I won't hesitate to curse you," Lacie mumbled whilst looking at her manicured nails.

"I know," Malfoy replied with the air of being oh-so-bored. "I'm here for Eltanin."

"Your bloody rook?" Lacie asked, standing up. "What's he doing in the Hospital Wing?"

"Language," Malfoy muttered, "I'd never thought that I'd ever have to chide _you_ for that, Lacie."

Lacie turned a bright red before saying through gritted teeth, "I'm going to _kill _Ron. He's been muttering that stupid word since he woke up yesterday."

"Eltanin had an unfortunate incident with someone," Malfoy said airily with a little despair and turning the attention back to himself, "He got far too excited with the prospect of being around someone dying."

"Who…?" Lacie asked.

Hermione gasped as she remembered. She remembered seeing Eltanin sweep in and attack Snape, but it wasn't Snape. Snape was next to Quirrell and they were both trying to get Eltanin away from them. Hermione thought that because she was sure that Snape was the person stealing the Stone that he was going to be the one that died for the Stone. She never suspected Quirrell for a second.

She never thought that she would have to cause the murder of nice Professor Quirrell who seemed too fragile, but, after seeing that he hadn't done anything to protect the Stone, it had to be him who tricked Hagrid and lured Harry there by sending Dumbledore away. That meant that Professor Quirrell was the one who had been helping You-Know-Who and had been defeated by Harry at the last moment.

That meant that Quirrell was dead. Eltanin had been right. That was tragic.

That settled it. Hermione didn't want that bloody bird near her at all. That bird. Not bloody. Stupid Ron and Lacie and their foul mouths.

"It was Quirrell," Hermione said under her breath. Unfortunately Lacie caught what she said.

"Yes, it was," Lacie said loudly. "Uncle Sev was innocent all this time."

"But he - …"

"I know."

"But I - …"

"You could buy him a new one," Lacie said, "I got him a new cloak at Christmas, mind you, but you could always buy him one too."

"But we - …"

"I know."

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione gushed reaching for Lacie.

Lacie smiled and patted her on her back, "If I ever see this Lauren, I will curse her so terribly - …"

"According to the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy…" Hermione said. Lacie pulled away from her and raised an eyebrow.

"This is why you should have done it whilst she was hitting you because then it would be judged a misunderstanding in self-defence!" Lacie exclaimed.

Hermione looked at her bedcovers, "He said that it was normal for my magic to be affected, emotional distress could either heighten or diminish magical ability."

"Who said?"

"Quirrell, he came to my house to tell me that I was a witch, he didn't have his turban yet and he was so scared to be there," Hermione whispered, "He told me that if controlled my magic and came to Hogwarts, that it would change and being upset and hurt wouldn't change my magic at all."

There was a pause. Hermione assumed that it was because Lacie didn't know what to say. Hermione empathised. She wouldn't know what to say if she were in the same situation.

"Granger, I don't like you but I'm sorry too," Draco said suddenly. Lacie and Hermione looked up. They had no idea that he was still there and listening to everything they said.

"Er…"

"I'm going to see Eltanin, goodbye."

He strutted off, but Hermione could visibly see the redness creep up on the tips of his ears.

"Has hell frozen over or has your brother grown a heart?" Hermione asked.

Lacie was too busy keeping her mouth open. "Draco never apologises to me! Draco!"

Lacie jumped out of her chair and walked towards Draco who was talking to Madam Pomfrey. After some heated words were exchanged, Draco was hotfooting it out of the Hospital Wing with Lacie chasing him. He paused a moment to give Hermione a sort of smirk before speeding off.

Across from her she thought she saw Harry frown in his unconscious state. Hermione smirked.

* * *

><p>"This is horrible," Ron said as he pushed away his plate.<p>

"Clearly," Lacie said, twirling her fork to wind the spaghetti around it and she ate it.

"I don't think this is a time for joking," Hermione said. "We should just eat and appreciate this Feast even if Slytherin are going to win and gloat."

Harry seemed to be shoving as much as he could into his mouth.

"Harry, it's not like it's your last meal," Lacie laughed.

"It might be," Harry said as he added more things to his plate. "Food doesn't taste as good at the Dursleys'."

Hermione snickered and pulled a face at the Beef Wellington. "Harry, over the holidays you'll have to have dinner at Grandmother Granger's, she'll teach you good food."

"Hermione - …"

"Alright, all of you can be invited," Hermione said rolling her eyes.

There was a chinking of glass as Professor McGonagall tapped a glass goblet with a knife. Everyone's attention was drawn onto Professor Dumbledore who had stood up. Hermione's stomach felt like it was going to fall.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ron grumbled.

"I _hate_ how Slytherin is going to win the House Cup," Lacie muttered next to Hermione. The remark made Hermione, Harry and Ron's eyebrows raise. This caught Lacie's attention. "What?"

"Nothing," Ron said. "If only you thought that before you lost those two hundred points at the beginning of term."

"I hate that look on Malfoy's face," Harry said as he stared across the Hall. Hermione turned around and saw Malfoy pointedly raise his eyebrows at her with a smug expression. Hermione wanted to throw her knife across the Hall at him and give Eltanin something else to flap about.

"I have a few last minute points to award."

Hermione turned back around and she looked at Ron, Harry and Lacie, all of whom where staring open-mouthed at each other.

_Could this mean?_

"For Mr Ronald Weasley, for bravery in the face of fear and the best played game of chess in a century, I award fifty points."

Ron looked like he was about to faint and he went redder than his red hair. Hermione was adding up the points in her head as well as paying utmost attention for what Professor Dumbledore was going to say next.

"For Miss Hermione Granger, for a cool use of knowledge and when confronted with the choice of cor aut mors, choosing the harder and more painful path of duty and loyalty. For this, fifty points."

Hermione could barely contain the cheers from her table. Lacie hugged her from the side as she processed what Dumbledore had just said about her. Cor aut mors? She had to think carefully about what he had said before she realised what it could have meant. She smiled as she looked at the Teacher's table. The Headmaster continued.

"To Mr Harry Potter, for displaying pure love and outstanding courage I award, sixty points."

The figures were added immediately in Hermione's head and gasped as she told the people around her that they were tied with Slytherin.

"Looks like you're not the only one who can add up, looks like Malfoy ate a bad case of sour grapes."

Hermione turned around to see Malfoy look a furious purple colour as he pouted at the Headmaster. None of the Slytherins looked particularly happy either. Hermione turned around as Lacie said, "That was the only thing that he was good at, aside from complaining."

"I can't argue with that," Hermione replied jovially.

"Sometimes I love being Malfoy's twin sister's friend," Ron said with a grin, "you get _all_the gossip."

Lacie cleared her throat as the Headmaster waited for everyone to stop speaking at their excitement of Gryffindor being in the running for the House Cup. It was slightly unbelievable to everyone else, that the underdog house, the house that had lost all those points throughout the year, was contending with the seven-year victory of Slytherin.

"It is easy to go along with something even if it's wrong but it's hard to stand up for something when you know you're right and everyone else is wrong, even if everyone else are your best friends. That is why I award Miss Lacerta Malfoy of Gryffindor House, ten points for persistent perseverance."

The table exploded. Hermione jumped on Lacie just as Seamus Finnigan did. Soon one side of the Gryffindor were crowding around Lacie and were crushing her under their embrace. No one believed, or could believe, that the black sheep of the House - the troublemaker, the Malfoy, the snotty first-year who seemed to lose points just by breathing - had led them to a tremendous victory. They continued to cheer and chant until Professor Dumbledore waved his hands to change the banners to reflect a Gryffindor win. McGonagall looked ecstatic next to a stoic Snape.

"He doesn't know whether to be pleased that I won points and gained respect from my whole House or to be devastated that his winning streak has been broken," Lacie remarked as Hermione turned away from the teachers' table back to the celebrating Gryffindors. She straightened her ruffled hair and her crumpled robes and laughed as she did so.

"That's a difficult position to be in," Hermione commented with a slight raise of the eyebrow and her gaze swept across the Great Hall. "Malfoy looks rather upset too."

Lacie looked across at the Slytherin table. "Imagine what it would have been like if I were in Slytherin."

"Gryffindor still would have won the House Cup," Hermione said, "Harry would have gone after the Stone. Someone else would have won the last ten points, maybe Dean or Neville or - …"

"I would hate my efforts to be credited with someone like Neville - …"

"Be _nice_."

"Oh, alright. Neville would be suitable person to have won the winning ten points," Lacie said rolling her eyes, "But it wasn't fifty points. I barely helped at all."

"You did enough," Hermione said, "That counts."

* * *

><p>"Who would have thought," Lacie said, as she combed her hair on the Hogwarts Express, "The Pureblood Princess, the Muggleborn genius, the blood-traitor pauper and the Boy-Who-Lived, all on the same carriage and all good friends."<p>

Harry snickered as he looked at Hermione. As usual, Hermione seemed to know what he was thinking. He was wondering how long it would take for Ron to realise that he was the only one who had been subtly insulted in the list. Hermione looked at Lacie for a moment, trying to see if she had done it on purpose to irk him.

However, it seemed, Ron was too engrossed in the game of Wizarding Chess that he was playing against Hermione. Hermione, like many others aside from a Ravenclaw seventh-year, had been beaten by Ron "best-played-game-of-chess" Weasley and didn't know why she was playing with him. Maybe it was to pass the time.

"Why shouldn't we be friends?" Harry asked, biting the head of a Jelly Snake as violently as one could bite the head off a Jelly Snake.

"We should have our own social groups, except, probably you seeing as there are no other Boy-Who-Liveds…" Lacie said, firmly sticking her foot in her mouth. "But what we have is special."

Hermione shook her head as she chuckled under her breath before moving her knight. Of course, Lacie was being incredibly cheesy to save face. Now Hermione was speculating about the health of Lacie's sanity. Ron moved a piece. Hermione moved another.

"Check. You're getting sloppy, Ronald."

Ron's eyebrows knitted in front of her before he moved his closed fist from his chin and smiled as he moved his knight, "I can checkmate you in three."

Hermione moved her queen. She said with a triumphant grin, "Checkmate."

At first Ron looked at her in amazement, then disbelief that he had lost but when he looked at his board, his king had surrendered.

"How…?"

"You get too predictable," Hermione explained, "the knight can't always be the bait."

Ron looked pensive for a moment before saying, "Rematch."

"But I …"

"Rematch." He was insistent.

"Just because you won McGonagall's chess board doesn't make you Mr Best-Played-Game-of-Chess!"

"Rematch, Miss Cor Aut Mors."

Hermione crossed her arms furiously before pulling her tongue, "Fine."

Lacie looked at her as if it was improper to do so. Hermione reminded her how improper it was for her to say 'bloody' all the time. Lacie stared daggers at Ron who told her that he had been brought up improper. Lacie didn't reply.

"May Mr Pure Love play against Mr Best-Played-Game-of-Chess?" Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione grinned to stop herself from laughing as she could see that Lacie was mortified to be sitting in the same carriage as they were. Ron grudgingly set the pieces so that he could play against Harry. Hermione grew amused by the fact that she was someone who played a better than best played game of chess just then.

Harry and Ron continued to call each other by the nicknames and dragged Hermione into the banter.

Lacie stood up, "If you don't be quiet, Miss Persistent Perseverance will leave."

Everyone kept their mouths shut. For a second. Then Hermione pulled Lacie down and they fell about laughing. They continued to call each other by their respective names during the rest of the journey home, even when Malfoy who wanted to speak to Miss Persistent Perseverance interrupted them. He left, with a strange look of madness on his face, as if the insanity in their carriage was contagious.

Hermione sided with Harry as he played Ron, and despite beating him before, both Hermione and Harry couldn't play him. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that it was because he had changed his tactics and was each move was becoming less obvious to predict.

As the scenery around them turned less green and more concrete, Hermione and Lacie pulled on their Muggle coats. Harry and Ron were obsessed with their games to care that they were nearing King's Cross station. Hermione watched as they rushed into their jumpers and coats as the train stopped.

"I'll see you soon," Lacie said, pulling on her trunk and turned onto Hermione, "Coming?"

Hermione went red and reached for her trunk, "I'll see you soon too, Harry, stay safe."

"What about me?" Ron asked as he shoved his robes into his trunk.

"You'll be fine, you're going home to your happy Wizarding family but Harry is going back to Muggles who are afraid of him, it's going to be difficult to adjust," Hermione said.

"You know that because your parents are afraid of you," Lacie said in a small voice.

"That's… not entirely true, but yes, being a Muggleborn does have its disadvantages."

"Right," Ron said. "I'll see you next term if I don't see you over the summer."

Hermione nodded and left with Lacie. She dragged her case across the corridor with the other hundred students that were trying to get off the train. Lacie was huffing at the time they had to wait to get off the train but Hermione was looking around her. She was trying to remember every detail of the Hogwarts Express, because it was the last reminder of the best nine months of her life so far.

Between school and having to keep up with Lacie, there was much to be desired, but there were a lot of desirable bits as well. Hermione was going to be away for two months, but that seemed too much for some reason.

Something else bothered Hermione.

"Er, Lacie."

"Yes?"

"Do you remember when, well, after our detention in the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Lacie flinched for a moment but tried to pass it like it was she was moving a piece of hair away from her face. "I remember."

"You said you promised someone something, I was wondering - …"

"You thought I promised Snape to hide something about the Stone, but you realised it couldn't be that," Lacie finished for her. She took a deep breath and seemed to deliberate something. "You mustn't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"The truth is… I promised a centaur." Lacie looked away, as if her pride for breaking a promise to someone else was shattered. Hermione knew that integrity was one thing that Lacie admired and tried to have beyond anything and Hermione was forcing her to take the opposite route.

"A _centaur?_" Hermione asked further, "What happened?"

Lacie turned around to face Hermione once more, "You mustn't tell anyone, Hermione. You have to keep this a secret."

"I won't tell."

"I knew that it was the Dark- … You-Know-Who, because he was speaking _Parseltongue_."

Hermione caught the emphasis but didn't understand completely.

"What's Parseltongue?"

"Parseltongue is snake-language, Hermione," Lacie said stressing the point. "Slytherin's symbol is a snake because Slytherin's Founder could speak to snakes."

"And...?"

"The Dark Lord was rumoured to be able to speak to snakes, apparently he's a descendant of Slytherin himself, or so, Father tells me," Lacie explained, "Firenze, the centaur, told me that I wasn't to tell Harry that it there a Parselmouth there."

"But... why?"

"He said that Harry had to find out at the right time," Lacie said, biting her lip, "He said that the time isn't right for him to learn about Parseltongue."

"What has it got to do with Harry if he knows about Parseltongue or not?" Hermione asked, "It's a odd thing to say."

"Centaurs are fortune-tellers, maybe for them it's important that something goes the way that they want," Lacie shrugged but she stared at Hermione hard in the face, "I-I…"

They were finally able to step out of the crowded train onto the crowded platform. Lacie's hanging sentence was lost in the noise that people made as they were reunited with their parents or loved ones.

"Oh, _Lacie!_" Malfoy said as he broke through the crowds, dragging his trunk along. "I have been looking for you everywhere."

"Really?" Lacie said, giving him a nonchalant swivel of the head and saying in an amused tone, "I hardly thought down the platform was _everywhere_."

"Granger," Malfoy said nodding at Hermione, ignoring his sister's jibe. Hermione politely nodded back. Draco turned back to Lacie and raised an eyebrow, "Father is expecting us."

"I'll come now," Lacie said, pushing Malfoy slightly away. She turned to Hermione and held out something.

"What's this?" Hermione held out her palm and stared at what Lacie was holding out at her.

"My bracelet," Lacie answered, dropping it into Hermione's hand, "unless, you don't want it."

"Of course I do!" Hermione exclaimed, "It was silly of me to have given it back."

"Well, I still wore your star bracelet," Lacie smiled.

"It's not very - …"

"I-I… You see, Lacerta isn't the brightest constellation there is, in fact, it's one of the least brightest and lesser impressive ones," Lacie said blushing, "but this bracelet…"

Hermione didn't want to ruin the moment by saying that she had no idea that Lacerta was even a constellation and that Lacie was named after it. In fact, she had just designed the bracelet like that because she had boring glass beads and wanted to add some flair to them before she left Hogwarts where she couldn't perform magic.

"…It makes me feel like Sirius, or maybe Eltanin."

"The rook?"

"No, the bright star, silly."

Hermione laughed. "You and your bright star metaphors."

Lacie smiled, "I'm going to miss you Hermione."

"I would miss you but…"

"_There better be something nice after that but!"_

"I'll see you soon anyway, the first of September isn't _too _far off and there is always Grandmother Granger's…"

"And you'll _have _to come to the Manor. Have to."

Hermione hugged Lacie and tried not to feels sad as she did so. "Bye."

"Bye, Miss Cor Aut Mors, take a break from all your pretentious decision-making!" Lacie said as she broke away and moved backwards.

"You better be able to dance en pointe when we get back, or you'll have a lot of explaining to do, Miss Better-Than-Everyone-Else!"

Lacie laughed as she turned away and slipped into the crowd. Hermione couldn't help feel a pang of sadness as she turned away from her best friend. She saw her parents in the distance and wondered what the feeling was as she walked towards them away from the train. The bracelet was cool to the touch in her hand and she couldn't shake the feeling away.

Dread. It wasn't dread. She had nothing to dread. Not even holiday homework.

Fear. She wasn't scared of Lauren anymore. Hermione fought her demons in the cor aut mors test. It couldn't be fear.

As she handed her trunk over to her parents to pull, Hermione realised that it was anticipation. She couldn't wait to see what the world beyond Platform Nine and Three-Quarters had ready for her. And in true Hermione style, she was going to do everything that the world was going to throw at her, with little titbits of useless information, or rather use_ful_ information, along the way.

* * *

><p><em>I'm so sorry for the extremely late update! This has been, literally, my first day off for ages due to other stuff, like spending Christmas and New Year working my ass off, and attending several days partying hard (well, I'm a lightweight, so partying hard is like a single shot of JD). And then there was the school production of Beauty and the Beast. So since last time I updated, I haven't had time to go over this chapter until now.<em>

_This was the first chapter, ironically, that I wrote having planned it all out. I kind of have this weird thing when I plan around the end, I have detailed chapter plans and stuff and sometimes when I'm bored, I write it all down on paper and transfer it to paper. Anyway, this is the end of Bright Star, but hopefully when I get my act together, I'll bring you the sequel to this. _

_Watch this space!_

Love, Becky.


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